


Harry Potter and the Rotfang Conspiracy

by SmuttyPlotWizard



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 90 percent Plot v 10 percent Porn, Anal Sex, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Facials, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Humour, Independent Harry Potter, Independent!Harry, Loss of Virginity, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Plot With Porn, Proactive!Harry, Smart Harry, Smart!Harry, Stripping, Underage Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 26
Words: 115,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25428937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmuttyPlotWizard/pseuds/SmuttyPlotWizard
Summary: During the summer before his sixth year, Harry reflects on the death of his Godfather, Sirius Black, and decides that it's time to fight back. If it’s war Voldemort wants, it’s war he will get! (Assuming Harry’s raging teenage hormones don't distract him, that is.) An occasionally X-rated (NC17-rated in the US) novel-length Honks re-write of Half-Blood Prince that’s about 80% plot, 10% humour and 10% smut. The smut doesn’t really take off until Chapter 7. Independent!Harry. Proactive!Harry.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 529
Kudos: 2005





	1. Will and Won’t

**Author's Note:**

> Anything you recognise belongs to JKR. Anything original or smutty belongs to me. I make no money from this fanfic.
> 
> This story is intended to be canon-compliant up to the end of The Order of the Phoenix, but deviates at the start of Half Blood Prince. It will be critical of Dumbledore, Ron and occasionally (just for a while) Hermione. This is basically a re-writing of HBP. I’ve kept some of the chapter titles the same so you can keep track of where we’re up to.
> 
> Pairings will include: Honks (Harry & Tonks) for sure... and maybe others... (I don’t want to spoil anything, but there will be no love triangles or broken hearts because I hate that.)
> 
> I’ll use a mixture of book-canon and movie-canon because sometimes one makes more sense than the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the story, and want to encourage me to write more, please leave kudos!

Harry Potter had been sitting in a chair beside his bedroom window at Number 4 Privet Drive for the best part of two hours, staring out at the darkening street. The room was strewn with various possessions and a good smattering of rubbish. Owl feathers, apple cores and sweet wrappers littered the floor, a number of spell books lay higgledy-piggledy among the tangled robes on his bed, and a mess of newspapers sat in a puddle of light on his desk with headlines like “HARRY POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONE?”, “SCRIMGEOUR SUCCEEDS FUDGE” and “MINISTRY GUARANTEES STUDENTS’ SAFETY”.

An alarm clock, repaired by Harry several years ago, ticked loudly on the sill, showing one minute to nine. Beside it was a piece of parchment covered in thin, slanting writing. Harry had read this letter so often since its arrival three days ago that, although it had been delivered in a tightly furled scroll, it now lay quite flat. The letter stated that Dumbledore would collect Harry at 11pm tonight, and would be glad of his assistance with something.

At first, Harry had been sceptical that Dumbledore would come at all, but the second part of the letter made him think again. If Dumbledore wanted a _favour_ , then he would _definitely_ come. Those two thoughts had blossomed into a rather troubling revelation – the only time Harry could rely on Dumbledore was when the Headmaster _wanted_ something.

The more Harry thought about it, the more he realised that Dumbledore’s interactions with him were always _transactional_ – if Harry wanted something from Dumbledore, he had to _bargain_ for it. Even more disturbing, Harry reckoned he’d subconsciously realised that very early on, and had been unwittingly doing what Dumbledore wanted for the last five years in an effort to _earn_ his trust and approval... and thus maybe learn his secrets.

The problem with that approach was that Dumbledore always dictated the terms – Harry would do something amazing like save the school from a Basilisk, and then he had to accept whatever paltry crumbs of reward Dumbledore deigned to cast his way.

If Harry continued on that path, he’d be Dumbledore’s pawn forever, he realised, and he most definitely did _not_ want that. He'd spent every waking moment of the last three days thinking about Dumbledore’s role in his life. For the first time ever, he’d weighed up the pros and cons of Dumbledore’s influence, and been amazed to discover that Dumbledore was actually a hugely _negative_ influence.

Dumbledore had placed Harry with the Dursleys, he’d supported Snape’s bullying, he’d failed to prevent multiple attempts on Harry’s life, he’d offered no help in the Triwizard Tournament, he’d virtually imprisoned Sirius, he’d allowed Umbridge to torture Harry, he was outwitted by Voldemort at every turn, and he never told _anyone_ why he did what he did. And on the other side of the ledger – the positive side – was what? Harry struggled to think of anything... except perhaps a bit of Grandfather-like approval and the odd grain of incomplete or misleading information.

Most recently, Dumbledore’s obsessive need to keep everything to himself had cost Sirius his life. Even worse, Harry had realised that Dumbledore told him the prophecy as _payment_ for Harry losing his Godfather. It was just another transaction. Dumbledore had screwed up, so to salvage his grip on Harry’s loyalty and compliance, he’d _bought_ it... with secrets.

That thought sickened Harry to his very core. Sirius’ life was worth more than Dumbledore’s poxy _secrets_!

How many more people would be sacrificed on the altar of Dumbledore’s paranoia before this was over? Remus, Tonks, Moody and Mr Weasley were all in the front lines. Would they survive this war? What about Harry’s friends – Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville, Ginny, Fred and George? How many of them would die? Losing Sirius was already too great a loss. Losing anyone else was inconceivable.

The problem, of course, was that Harry couldn’t defeat Voldemort _without_ Dumbledore’s help.

Harry thought about that for good while before another thought occurred to him – would he even be able to defeat Voldemort _with_ Dumbledore’s help?

He realised that he didn’t think he could.

After _five whole years_ of Dumbledore’s dubious ‘help’, Harry was no nearer to being able to defeat Voldemort than he was at the start. In fact, he was in a much _worse_ position now. Voldemort had regained a body, freed his most vicious supporters from Azkaban, and was recruiting an army.

It was hardly a ringing endorsement of Dumbledore’s leadership skills that he’d allowed the enemy to become a hundred times stronger. In fact it was catastrophically incompetent. Dumbledore might be a powerful wizard, but he was a _dreadful_ leader.

But who else was there? If Dumbledore couldn’t (or wouldn’t) help Harry to defeat Voldemort, who _could_? The Ministry was the obvious choice, now that Fudge was gone, but according to the _Daily Prophet_ , ‘rumours of a rift between the new Minister and Albus Dumbledore had surfaced within hours of Scrimgeour taking office’.

Who else could help Harry to defeat Voldemort? Remus? Tonks? Moody? Mr and Mrs Weasley? Hagrid? McGonagall? Flitwick?

No – they were all in Dumbledore’s pocket. They wouldn’t lift a finger without Dumbledore’s permission.

The only people Harry could conceivably trust were Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville, Ginny and the twins. Sadly, none of them had any idea how to defeat Voldemort either.

After three long days of deliberation, the conclusion was inescapable – Harry would have to figure out how to defeat Voldemort himself. He’d have to play along with Dumbledore, pretending to do what he was told, but behind the scenes he’d have to make his own plans.

Judging by the last five years, Harry’s chances of getting any material help from Dumbledore were essentially zero. The Ministry, on the other hand _might_ help him, if he could talk to the new Minister in person, without Dumbledore there to screw it up. Fudge had been a cowardly career politician who never would have helped Harry, but with Scrimgeour in charge things might be different. The question was, _how different_? Harry’s experiences with the Ministry had never been good, and he couldn’t discount the possibility that they’d continue to be useless... but he had to try. They were his only hope. If the Ministry wouldn’t help him he would truly be alone.

What his ultimate plans might entail Harry had no idea yet, but he did know one thing – it would have to be very different to what he’d been doing so far, because that wasn’t working at all. He needed to embrace his Slytherin side and stop being so Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat had been right – he should have been sorted into Slytherin. Being in Gryffindor had crippled him for this fight. After all, what had he learnt in Gryffindor? To treat learning magic like ‘work’ that should be avoided, and to play games instead. With a sigh, Harry started packing up his stuff. Dumbledore would be here in two hours. Harry may as well get ready. He chose not to warn his relatives though. There was no point – they’d just go berserk.

Sure enough, Dumbledore’s arrival caused quite a stir. Dumbledore invited himself in, cowed the Dursleys with his complete lack of fear and casual use of magic, and then spoke to Harry as if the Dursleys weren’t even present. Unfortunately they _were_ present, so Dumbledore revealing that Harry’s mass-murdering Godfather was dead did Harry no favours at all. Disclosing that Harry was already rich and had inherited another fortune from Sirius, plus a house, was also less than ideal – Dumbledore either didn’t understand the delicate balance Harry had to maintain with the Dursleys, was deliberately trying to make Harry’s life difficult, or just didn’t give a shit. Of course Dumbledore’s final act – suggesting that Harry summon a house elf into the Dursleys’ home – was beyond stupid. Was Dumbledore _trying_ to make Harry’s life a misery?

But what choice did Harry have? None at all! So he’d summoned the traitorous elf, much to the Dursleys’ eternal horror.

It was quickly established that Kreacher did indeed belong to Harry, and at Dumbledore’s suggestion he ordered the elf to go work at Hogwarts. Dumbledore informed the Dursleys that the protection on their house would cease when Harry became an adult at seventeen, but Harry would need to return one more time to maintain the protections until that time. He sent Harry’s belongings on to the Burrow, and then they stepped out to (as he put it), ‘pursue that flighty temptress, adventure’.

Harry followed, but was privately thinking that if he owned his own house there was no way he’d return to this hell-hole. Having a house-elf at his command might be very useful too, if the treacherous little shit could be forced to behave.

Dumbledore side-along Apparated them both to a deserted village square. He deflected when Harry asked about his black and withered hand. That was apparently yet another mystery which would not be explained any time soon.

“They’re calling me the Chosen One,” Harry noted as the Headmaster lead the way up a cobbled hill. “In the Daily Prophet... They seem to know about the prophecy.”

“Yes they do,” his grey-haired companion grumbled distractedly. “The destruction you wreaked in the Hall of Prophecy and your subsequent encounter with Lord Voldemort in the Ministry Atrium led a number of people to put two-and-two together. It would have been better if that had not happened.”

The rebuke in his words was clear, and it annoyed Harry immensely. Yes, it would have been better if Harry hadn’t been tricked into endangering all his friends and getting Sirius killed. If only someone could have warned him that Voldemort had the power to trick him that way, Harry thought to himself sarcastically. Oh, wait. Someone _did_ know that – Dumbledore. If only someone could have taught Harry how to keep Voldemort out of his head then. Oh, wait. Someone _could_ have taught him that – Dumbledore again! But no, the Headmaster had assigned that vital task to absolutely the worst person possible for fear that Voldemort would use Harry to attack him if he did it himself.

“What the prophecy says is only significant because Voldemort made it so,” the Headmaster continued. “I told you this at the end of last year. Voldemort singled you out as the person who would be most dangerous to him – and in doing so, he _made you_ the person who would be most dangerous to him!”

“But it comes to the same...”

“No, it doesn’t!” said Dumbledore, sounding impatient now. Pointing at Harry with his black, withered hand, he said, “You are setting too much store by the prophecy!”

“But,” spluttered Harry, “but you said the prophecy means...”

“If Voldemort had never heard of the prophecy, would it have been fulfilled? Would it have meant anything? Of course not! Do you think every prophecy in the Hall of Prophecy has been fulfilled?”

“But,” said Harry, bewildered by the Headmaster’s u-turn, “but in your office, you said one of us would have to kill the other...”

“Harry, Harry, only because Voldemort made a grave error, and acted on Professor Trelawney’s words! If Voldemort had never murdered your father, would he have imparted in you a furious desire for revenge? Of course not! If he had not forced your mother to die for you, would he have given you a magical protection he could not penetrate? Of course not, Harry! Don’t you see? Voldemort himself created his worst enemy, just as tyrants everywhere do! He heard the prophecy and he leapt into action, with the result that he not only handpicked the man most likely to finish him, he handed him uniquely deadly weapons!”

“But...” Harry began again in confusion. That made no sense! Having a ‘furious desire for revenge’ hardly made Harry unique – thousands of people had lost family to Voldemort. It certainly didn’t convey any special abilities to kill a wizard that even Dumbledore couldn’t defeat. As for the ‘magical protection’... in what way was that a weapon? It was a _defence_. In any case, Voldemort could touch him now so that aspect was gone, and the protection at Number 4 Privet Drive only worked when he was there, and only until he was seventeen. What exactly were these ‘deadly weapons’ Dumbledore was talking about?

“It is essential that you understand this!” Dumbledore resumed, looking agitated. “By attempting to kill you, Voldemort himself singled out the remarkable person who stands here beside me, and gave him the tools for the job! It is Voldemort’s fault that you were able to see into his thoughts, his ambitions, that you even understand the snakelike language in which he gives orders, and yet, Harry, despite your privileged insight into Voldemort’s world (which, incidentally, is a gift any Death Eater would kill to have), you have never been seduced by the Dark Arts, never, even for a second, shown the slightest desire to become one of Voldemort’s followers!”

“Of course I haven’t!” said Harry indignantly. “He killed my parents!”

“You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!” said Dumbledore loudly. “The only protection that can possibly work against the lure of power like Voldemort’s! In spite of all the temptation you have endured, all the suffering, you remain pure of heart. Voldemort should have known then what he was dealing with, but he did not! But he knows it now. You have flitted into Lord Voldemort’s mind without damage to yourself, but he cannot possess you without enduring mortal agony, as he discovered in the Ministry. I do not think he understands why, Harry, but he was in such a hurry to mutilate his own soul, he never paused to understand the incomparable power of a soul that is untarnished and whole.”

Harry made a valiant effort to reign in his frustration, because none of that made him unique or powerful – lots of people had refused the temptations of the Dark Arts, and literally _everyone_ (apart from Voldemort) had an intact soul. Dumbledore was once again trying to distract him with the idea that a ‘protection’ was some sort of weapon.

“It all comes to the same thing, doesn’t it?” Harry pressed. “I’ve got to try and kill him, or...”

“Got to?” said Dumbledore. “Of course you’ve got to! But not because of the prophecy! Because you, yourself, will never rest until you’ve tried! We both know it! You see, the prophecy does not mean you have to do anything! But the prophecy caused Lord Voldemort to mark you as his equal... in other words you are free to choose your way, quite free to turn your back on the prophecy! But Voldemort continues to set store by the prophecy. He will continue to hunt you... which makes it certain, really, that...”

“That one of us is going to end up killing the other,” said Harry. “Yes.”

He understood at last what Dumbledore had been trying to tell him. It was the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. In other words, it was a cynical and transparent attempt to manipulate Harry into fighting Voldemort by appealing to his pride and his hunger for revenge. _But why?_ Why was Dumbledore so determined for Harry to do this? It made no sense whatsoever. Nothing the Headmaster had said shed any real light on how Harry could triumph over Voldemort. It was just more obfuscation – verbal smoke-and-mirrors to make it seem like Dumbledore knew what he was talking about.

Despite that, there was one conclusion that was inescapable – for some reason Dumbledore was _adamant_ that Harry should be the one to fight Voldemort. The Headmaster claimed to have little faith in the power of prophecies, but he seemed to believe very strongly in the power of Fate. He was attempting to manoeuvre Harry into fulfilling a fate that Dumbledore envisaged for him, and clearly had no intention of telling Harry what that fate might entail. That thought sent a chill down Harry’s spine. How could he trust someone who would do such a thing? Surely Harry had the right to choose his own fate?

Harry looked around, “‘Er – where exactly are we?”

“This, Harry, is the charming village of Budleigh Babberton.”

“And what are we doing here?”

“Ah, yes, of course, I haven’t told you,” said Dumbledore. “Well, I have lost count of the number of times I have said this in recent years, but we are, once again, one member of staff short. We are here to persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. This was the favour he’d mentioned in his letter. Dumbledore had never dragged Harry along on staff recruitment before, which meant that Harry’s presence was important to the success of his visit. In fact, knowing Dumbledore, there was probably more than one scheme in motion.

Harry stopped in his tracks.

Dumbledore didn’t notice for a few seconds, but then slowed to a stop, “Something wrong, Harry?”

Harry hesitated. Did he dare do this? Yes, he did. _Things had to change._ He might as well start now.

“I assume there’s more to this than filling an empty teaching slot, and you need me to make it happen. So, Headmaster, what’s in it for me?”

Dumbledore gave him a very quizzical look, “I’m not sure I follow.”

“It’s quite simple, Headmaster. You need a favour from me. What do I get in return for that favour?”

For the first time, Harry thought he saw anger flash across Dumbledore’s face, “Doing what’s right is its own reward, Harry. We should not seek payment for it.”

Harry scoffed, “Since you haven’t told me why we’re doing this, I don’t know that it _is_ right do I? If you tell me enough that I can determine that it’s right, I will make a judgement on that basis. But as things stand I _can’t_ make that judgment. For all I know, we could be doing something very _wrong_. We could be endangering this person’s life, for example. So if you ask me to do this without explanation, then you’re not asking me to do what’s right, you’re asking me to _trust you_. After the events of last year, I’m afraid I’m no longer inclined to do so. You kept secrets from me, Headmaster. If I’d known those secrets, I never would have gone to the Department of Mysteries, and Sirius would still be alive. Your secrets _cost_ me, Headmaster. They cost me a very great deal. So I have decided that it’s time for a change. You can keep your secrets if you like, but you don’t get to do it for free any more. It’s going to _cost_ you, starting now. So I repeat, if you want this favour from me I will require a favour in return.”

Dumbledore turned to fully face Harry, and stepped closer. His expression remained neutral, but Harry couldn’t help noticing that the Headmaster was now looming over him in a rather menacing way.

“We don’t have time for this, Harry. I _need_ you to trust me. There is a great deal at stake – a very great deal.”

Harry glared up at him defiantly, “Is that so? In that case my price has just gone up. Keep on pushing Headmaster and we’ll see how high my price can go.”

Dumbledore was growing angry now. If Harry was honest, he was quite scared. That thought gave him pause. _Why_ was he so scared? Wasn’t the Headmaster supposed to be one of the good guys? Harry had been less scared when he faced Voldemort. Why was he more scared of Dumbledore than Voldemort?

The answer chilled him to the bone. It was because Dumbledore was just as ruthless as Voldemort, but held sway over much more of Harry’s life. Harry wasn’t scared of what Dumbledore might do to _him_ ; he was scared of the collateral damage to others that might result from Dumbledore’s anger.

Harry wondered idly how the Death Eaters coped with this – they were all out there fighting against Dumbledore, while their children were in Dumbledore’s care. Did they know something Harry didn’t? They must do, because in their shoes Harry would never let his child anywhere near a sworn enemy. That thought gave him courage. They must know Dumbledore better than Harry did, and saw no danger from him. Harry had no time to figure out why, but it gave him the confidence to stare Dumbledore down.

“I see,” Dumbledore said finally. “Out of curiosity, Harry, what would your price be?”

Harry thought fast. He hadn’t actually had anything in mind. This was more of a spur-of-the-moment thing, to see what Dumbledore’s reaction might be. To test the Headmaster’s resolve, Harry’s price should be something Dumbledore would believe a teenager would actually want, but which he could easily provide. Something that would cost the Headmaster nothing...

Inspiration struck.

“I deserved to be Prefect last year,” Harry replied bitterly, “but you gave the badge to Ron. That was more than just a slap in the face – it undermined my credibility with the students and the public. You claimed you did it because you thought I had enough responsibility to be going on with, but you should have asked me. I would have told you...”

A twinkle had appeared in Dumbledore’s eyes as he interrupted, “You want to be a Prefect then?”

That wasn’t what Harry had in mind – it would be selling himself short. In any case, the Headmaster seemed too eager to pay that price, so it wouldn’t be a true test of how far Harry could push him. Something bigger was required.

“No Headmaster, that ship has sailed. You sullied that position when you gave it to Ron. I want to be _Head Boy_.”

The twinkle vanished. Dumbledore was incredulous, “Head Boy? In your sixth year? On what grounds?”

Harry returned Dumbledore’s incredulity, “Are you _serious_ , Headmaster? Who deserves it more than _me_? Did anyone else save the school from Voldemort in his first year, or a Basilisk in his second year, or a hundred Dementors in his third year, or win the Triwizard Cup in his fourth year, or teach Defence and suffer torture in his fifth year?” Harry was almost yelling now. “Tell me, Headmaster, _who has done more for the school than me? Name them! Come on! Let’s see how badly you can offend me!_ ”

Dumbledore put hand on Harry’s shoulder to calm him, but it just made him angrier.

“Calm yourself Harry. I grant that you have done things that no other can match, but you’re a sixth year. The Head Boy is always a seventh year. Always.”

Harry pushed Dumbledore’s hand off his shoulder, “Let’s be frank, Headmaster. War is coming. I probably won’t even _make it_ to my seventh year. _None of us_ may be here next year. This is my one and only chance to be Head Boy. I _deserve_ it, and I _want_ it. That is my price.”

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, “I’m sorry Harry, but the Head Boy has already been chosen. I cannot accommodate you.”

Fury blazed in Harry’s chest. He had to grit his teeth to get any words out, “Then I regret that I cannot _accommodate_ you this evening Headmaster. In fact I will advise the person we’re about to meet that they must _not_ come to Hogwarts, that their life will be in peril, that Voldemort has already gained access to the school on several occasions, and that there is a Death Eater already on the staff. I’ll do whatever it takes to thwart your plans.”

Dumbledore’s anger had returned, “Are you _blackmailing_ me, Harry?”

“No headmaster. You are denying me something I want, and I’m returning the favour. That’s all. We both know full well that you have absolute and total authority at Hogwarts. You could make me Head Boy if you wanted to. You’re _choosing_ not to. Well, I’m _choosing_ not to let you manipulate this person into a life-threatening situation. Our relationship has always been _transactional_ Headmaster, don’t try to deny it. You’ve cleverly manoeuvred me into being loyal and subservient, but being loyal to you has always come with a cost. A one-way cost! I’ve been loyal to you, and yet _I’m_ the one who pays for that loyalty. Well not anymore!”

Harry was becoming increasingly agitated. He was pacing up and down now, gesticulating wildly. “In _my_ opinion, there is a massive debt between us Headmaster, and it’s _you_ that owes _me_. Our relationship has brought me nothing but pain and suffering. In fact, you know what? _The whole Magical World owes me!_ I’ve saved them from Voldemort three times! Well it’s time for you and them to show some _god-damn_ appreciation for my pain and sacrifice. I want to see some _fucking gratitude_ , or you can all go to hell. In fact, no! Screw it! You can count me out. Go fight Voldemort yourselves. I don’t care anymore. He can have you, I’m done.”

Harry stormed off down the moonlit street, back the way they’d come.

Dumbledore was silent for a ten long seconds before he finally called out, “Very well Harry.”

Harry stopped in his tracks fifty meters away.

“Help me this evening,” Dumbledore said softly, “and you’ll be made Head Boy.”

Harry turned on his heel and walked back, his fury reigned in, “You have a deal Headmaster, but if you renege on it, you and I are done. Lead on.”

They proceeded up a steep, narrow street lined with houses. All the windows were dark. The odd chill that had lain over Privet Drive for two weeks persisted here, too. Neither one of them spoke for a while.

As Harry knew he would, Dumbledore eventually tried to guilt-trip him, “I’m very disappointed in you Harry.”

Harry snorted, “Not half as disappointed as I am in you Headmaster. Sirius died because you kept secrets from me. If someone _you_ love dies tonight because if _my_ actions, I will admit that you have the right to be equally disappointed in me. Until then, your disappointment is of little concern to me.”

Dumbledore’s jaw clenched, but he chose not to reply.

The meeting with Horace Slughorn was a success. Dumbledore had chosen not to brief Harry on what he expected him to do, so Harry let Dumbledore do most of the talking. When Dumbledore excused himself to use the bathroom, Harry played his part and sold the idea of it being safer to be near Dumbledore than anywhere else. Generally-speaking, Harry didn’t believe that to be true, but in Slughorn’s case it probably was, so he didn’t feel too bad about it. Dumbledore returned and soon had Slughorn signed up, though Slughorn did demand better rooms than last time he’d been a professor.

Harry and Dumbledore left the house and walked back the way they came. Dumbledore was silent until they reached the war memorial in the centre of the village.

He spoke without looking at Harry, “It is my wish that you take private lessons with me this year, Harry. I think it is time that I took a greater hand in your education.”

Harry wondered if this was because of his earlier outburst, “What will you be teaching me, Headmaster?”

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that.”

“I see. In that case I will reserve judgement on whether there will be a price.”

Dumbledore seemed genuinely shocked, “You would _charge me_ to give you private lessons?”

“Well it depends,” Harry replied evenly. “In my experience everything you do serves _you_ more than it serves _me_. If this is one such occasion then yes, I will charge for my time.”

Dumbledore growled in frustration, but when he spoke again his voice was controlled, “I wish you to keep your Invisibility Cloak with you at all times from this moment onwards. Even within Hogwarts itself. Just in case, you understand me?” Harry nodded. “And lastly, while you stay there, the Burrow has been given the highest security the Ministry of Magic can provide. These measures have caused a certain amount of inconvenience to Arthur and Molly – all their post, for instance, is being searched at the Ministry, before being sent on. They do not mind in the slightest, for their only concern is your safety. However, it would be poor repayment if you risked your neck while staying with them. Now if you will excuse me, I have some other matters to attend to. Take my arm, Harry.”

As soon as Harry’s hand touched Dumbledore’s arm they disapparated. Braced this time, Harry was ready, but he still found it unpleasant. When the pressure dissipated he found himself standing alone, ankle deep in a bog. The Burrow was visible a few hundred meters away. Wondering if the Headmaster had done that on purpose, he trudged towards the track that lead to the house.

In the past, the Headmaster’s abrupt departure would have left Harry feeling dreadfully guilty. Today he felt elated. He’d done it! He’d changed the rules. He was sure the Headmaster would push back, but this was potentially his first real concession – assuming his Head Boy badge arrived sometime soon, that is. Harry didn’t _actually_ care about the Head Boy badge, but if it didn’t appear... well then he’d know that the Headmaster couldn’t be trusted at all.

Harry guessed it was approaching one o’clock in the morning, but up ahead he saw the kitchen light was still on inside the Burrow. Harry could see Mrs Weasley talking to a woman with brown hair, but she was facing away from him so he couldn’t make out who it was.

With a determined sigh, Harry turned away from the warm embrace of the Burrow and jogged down the lane in the opposite direction.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	2. A Show of Faith

This could be Harry’s only chance to meet with Scrimgeour. It was a long shot, but he had maybe five hours to get to London (and back) before Mrs Weasley rose to make breakfast. He took a moment to tip the swamp water out of his shoes, and then ran at a steady lope for about a mile, his still-damp shoes squelching loudly.

Once he thought he was far enough from the Burrow, he threw out his wand arm for the Knight Bus.

He wasn’t entirely sure it would stop here, but it was worth a try. If not, he’d move on and try somewhere else. Fortunately, a few seconds later he heard the distinctive BANG of the old-fashioned purple triple-decker 'Routemaster' arriving.

Harry greeted the conductor as he climbed aboard, “Hey Stan! One for Whitehall in London, please.”

“Well I never! It’s Neville Longbottom again. Long time no see! That’ll be eleven sickles, Neville.”

Harry laughed, though he wasn’t sure if the man was joking. “Thanks, Stan. Mind if I have a snooze? Bit of a long night ahead.”

Without waiting for an answer, Harry dove onto the nearest four-poster bed and lay down with his eyes shut and his damp feet hanging off the end.

Stan took the hint, “Take ‘er away Ern!” With a BANG the bus took off.

Harry lay in the bed, swaying wildly from side to side. This actually wasn’t half bad. After all his broom flying, and riding on the backs of a Hippogriff and a Thestral, this felt pretty tame. He closed his eyes and thought about what he would say if he did manage to meet up with the Minister.

To Harry’s enormous surprise, he was woken some time later by Stan shaking his shoulder. “This is your stop, Neville.”

Harry wiped his eyes under his glasses and clambered groggily from the bed, “Wow, thanks Stan. I must have nodded off there. What time is it?”

Stan checked his watch, “Half past one.”

“Perfect, thanks!” Harry replied and jumped off the bus, “See you later!”

Harry figured there was no better way to avoid looking suspicious than being friendly and cheerful. There was nothing less gossip-worthy than someone being cheerful. Someone looking miserable, on the other hand...

The bus took off as Harry tried to get his bearings. He’d been here once with Mr Weasley (and again on the back of a Thestral), so he was fairly confident he could find the Ministry visitors’ entrance. He knew it wasn’t far from Whitehall. He spotted some familiar landmarks and headed off. Two minutes later he was inside the battered telephone box. He picked up the receiver and dialled six two four four two.

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.”

“Harry Potter, for a private meeting with the Minister for Magic, if he’s around.”

“Thank you,” said the cool female voice. “Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.”

A badge slid out of the metal chute where returned coins normally appeared. Harry grabbed it and pinned it to his sweatshirt. It read, ‘ _Harry Potter, Clandestine Meeting’_.

“Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.”

The floor of the telephone box shuddered and sank slowly into the ground. Darkness closed over his head. Soon he could see nothing at all; he could hear only a dull grinding noise as the telephone box made its way down through the earth. After about a minute, a chink of golden light illuminated his feet and, widening, rose up his body, until it hit him in the face and he had to blink to stop his eyes watering.

“The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day,” said the woman’s voice, and the door of the telephone box sprang open.

Harry stepped out into the long and splendid-looking hall. Much of the damage inflicted by Dumbledore and Voldemort’s duel a few weeks ago had been repaired, but most of the statues were still missing. He tried not to think about the events of that day as he strolled towards the Security desk at the far end.

A badly-shaven wizard in peacock blue robes looked up as Harry approached, and lowered the _Daily Prophet_ he was reading, “Ministry’s closed to visitors. Come back after eight o’clock.”

Harry recognised the guard from the time he came with Mr Weasley. What was his name? Eric? Yes, Eric.

“Hi Eric, it’s nice to see you again. I know the Ministry is closed, but could you get a message to the Minister? Tell him that Harry Potter would like a chat, and that this may be our only opportunity to do so.”

Eric goggled at him, “Are you mental? It’s more than my job’s worth to disturb the Minister in the middle of the night, even for someone claiming to be Harry Potter. Go on lad, get going.” He waved Harry away and resumed reading his newspaper, muttering under his breath, “Meet the Minister indeed! In the middle of the night! As if...”

Harry glared at the guard.

Damn it! What now? He stepped away from the desk and walked slowly back up the atrium. How could he contact the Minister? Perhaps he could have sent Hedwig, if his faithful owl wasn’t already at the Burrow. Harry didn’t know where the Minister lived, but he could get the Night Bus to Hogwarts, and then ride a Thestral to the Minister’s house... assuming the Minister was at home and not here working late.

Suddenly Harry slapped himself on the forehead, “Of course! Argh, I’m so stupid. I’ve got to stop forgetting about important assets!” In a firm voice he shouted, “Kreacher!”

Two house-elves were suddenly rolling around on the floor, one wearing a shrunken maroon jumper and several woolly hats, the other, a filthy old rag strung over his hips like a loincloth.

“Kreacher will not insult Harry Potter in front of Dobby, no he won’t, or Dobby will shut Kreacher’s mouth for him!” cried Dobby in a high-pitched voice.

“Kreacher will say what he likes about his master, oh yes, and what a master he is, filthy friend of Mudbloods, oh, what would poor Kreacher’s mistress say?”

Exactly what Kreacher’s mistress would have said they did not find out, for at that moment Dobby sank his knobbly little fist into Kreacher’s mouth and knocked out half of his teeth.

Harry grabbed one elf in each hand and pulled them apart, “Right – I’m forbidding you to fight each other! Well, Kreacher, you’re forbidden to fight Dobby. Dobby, I know I’m not allowed to give you orders...”

“Dobby is a free house-elf and he can obey anyone he likes and Dobby will do whatever Harry Potter wants him to do!” said Dobby defiantly.

“Okay, then,” said Harry and released the elves. They fell to the floor, but did not continue fighting.

“Master called me?” croaked Kreacher, sinking into a bow even as he gave Harry a look of pure hatred.

“Yeah, I did. I’ve got a job for you.”

“Kreacher will do whatever Master wants,” said Kreacher, sinking so low that his lips almost touched his gnarled toes, “because Kreacher has no choice, but Kreacher is ashamed to have such a Master, yes...”

“Dobby will do it, Harry Potter!” squeaked Dobby, “Dobby would be honoured to help Harry Potter!”

“Oh, okay. Kreacher, go back to Hogwarts and resume your work there.” Kreacher looked back and forth between Dobby and Harry, a look of dismay on his face, then vanished with a crack.

“Right, Dobby. I need you to find the Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. If he’s alone, tell him that Harry Potter would like a chat, and right now might be our only opportunity to do so. If he’s not alone, wait until he is alone please. Can you do that?”

“Dobby will do it, Harry Potter!” squeaked Dobby, and was gone.

The Security Guard was too far away to hear what had been said, but he was eyeing Harry with open curiosity. Fortunately he made no move to throw Harry out, which was a blessing. Harry began pacing again, waiting nervously for Dobby to return.

Thirty long minutes later, Dobby reappeared, “Dobby has delivered Harry Potter’s message. The Minister was talking to Headmaster Dumblydore, so Dobby waited as Harry Potter instructed. The Minister is on his way now.”

Harry grinned and knelt down in front of Dobby, “Thank you, Dobby. How did you find him so fast?”

“Harry Potter has many friends among the elves. Dobby asked around.”

“Well, you’ve save me again Dobby.”

Dobby looked like he was about to burst into tears, “Harry Potter is very welcome. Dobby will always answer when Harry Potter calls.”

Harry put a hand on Dobby’s shoulder, “Thank you Dobby, you’re a good friend.”

That seemed to be too much for Dobby. With a wail he disappeared. Harry sighed and stood up to wait for the Minister.

It was perhaps ten minutes before a green flash in one of the floos announced Scrimgeour’s arrival.

He was dressed in the same formal robes he always seemed to wear for public appearances. There were streaks of grey in his mane of tawny hair and his bushy eyebrows; he had keen yellowish eyes behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and a certain rangy, loping grace even though he walked with a slight limp. There was an immediate impression of shrewdness and toughness, despite him leaning on a walking stick. He looked rather like an old lion.

The Minster strode confidently up to Harry and offered his hand, “Harry Potter, I presume? Rufus Scrimgeour.”

Harry took his hand and the Minister shook it firmly as he continued speaking, “I’ve wanted to meet you for a while, but Dumbledore is very... protective of you. Natural, of course, natural, after what you’ve been through... especially what happened... here.” He paused awkwardly, and Harry had the very strong impression that the Minister was nervous. “Well, shall we go somewhere a little more private? Let’s head up to my office.”

He led the way past Eric the security guard without a glance. Eric seemed disinclined to object, so Harry followed the Minister without having to go through any security checks at all. Scrimgeour glanced briefly at Harry’s squelching feet, but made no comment.

The Minister for Magic’s Office was exactly what Harry would have expected – a large and imposingly grand room with oak panelling on all four walls, an ornately moulded cream-coloured plaster ceiling, and a large crystal chandelier with candles permanently burning within it. There was an enormous desk with a large leather chair beyond, but Scrimgeour led Harry to a sofa and chairs off to one side. “Can I offer you refreshments, Harry?”

“No thank you, Minister, I don’t have much time.” Harry took a seat on the sofa, while Scrimgeour took one of the armchairs.

“Please, call me Rufus. I have been hoping for an occasion to talk to you ever since I gained office, but Dumbledore has – most understandably, as I say – prevented this. The rumours that have flown around! Well, of course, we both know how these stories get distorted... all these whispers of a prophecy... of you being the ‘Chosen One’... I assume that Dumbledore has discussed these matters with you?”

Scrimgeour seemed to be fishing, though he clearly had an agenda. It would be very useful to know what it was the Minister was after before Harry proceeded, so he answered cagily, “Yeah, we’ve discussed it.”

“Have you, have you?” said Scrimgeour, “And what has Dumbledore told you, Harry?”

“Quite a lot, Rufus, but these are delicate matters, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate.”

Harry kept his voice as pleasant as he could, and Scrimgeour’s tone, too, was light and friendly as he replied, “Oh, of course! If it’s a question of confidences, I wouldn’t want you to divulge... no, no... and in any case, does it really matter whether you are the Chosen One or not?”

Harry had to mull that one over for a few seconds before responding. “I don’t really know what you mean, Rufus.”

“Well, of course, to you it will matter enormously,” said Scrimgeour with an uneasy laugh. “But to the Wizarding community at large... it’s all perception, isn’t it? It’s what people _believe_ that’s important.”

Harry said nothing. He thought he could see where this was heading, but he wanted to be sure.

“People _believe_ you are the Chosen One, you see,” Scrimgeour continued. “They think you quite the hero – which, of course, you are, Harry, chosen or not! How many times have you faced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named now? Well, anyway,” he pressed on, without waiting for a reply, “the point is, you are a symbol of hope for many, Harry. The idea that there is somebody out there who might be able, who might even be _destined_ , to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named – well, naturally, it gives people a lift. And I can’t help but feel that, once you realise this, you might consider it, well, almost a _duty_ , to stand alongside the Ministry, and give everyone a boost.”

“Five times,” said Harry, flatly.

Scrimgeour was wrong-footed, “I’m sorry?”

“I’ve faced Voldemort five times, if we include the time he gave me this scar,” Harry pointed to his forehead.

Scrimgeour paled, “Fives times! Really? That’s... Remarkable. Truly... quite remarkable. Well, that reinforces my point. If you were to be seen... popping in and out of the Ministry from time to time, for instance, that would give the right impression. And of course, while you were here, you would have ample opportunity to speak to Gawain Robards, my successor as Head of the Auror Office. Dolores Umbridge has told me that you cherish an ambition to become an Auror. Well, that could be arranged very easily...”

Harry felt anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Dolores Umbridge was still at the Ministry, was she? He reined it in as best he could. He’d worry about that later.

“So basically you’d like to give the impression that I’m working for the Ministry?” Harry asked.

“It would give everyone a lift to think you were more involved, Harry,” replied Scrimgeour, relieved that Harry had cottoned-on so quickly. “The ‘Chosen One’, you know... it’s all about giving people _hope_ , the feeling that exciting things are happening...”

Harry regarded the Minister for a long moment. Scrimgeour shifted uneasily in his seat. He really wasn’t much of a politician, Harry realised. In the past, Harry would have been deeply offended by what he’d just heard. But things had changed. Harry had an agenda of his own, and he needed Scrimgeour on-side to improve his chances.

He chose his words carefully, “Your plan has merit, Rufus, but I think we can do better. You want me to _pretend_ to be working with the Ministry, but I think it would be more useful if I actually _was_ working for the Ministry. There’s a lot more going on here than meets the eye, Minister. We need to do more than give the _impression_ that we’re working together, we need to actually _do so_. I have information that would be of great use to you, I think, while _you_ have resources that would be of great use to _me_.”

Scrimgeour abruptly become more animated. He sat forward eagerly, “What sort of information? Do you know what Dumbledore’s up to?”

“I know some of it,” Harry confirmed, “and I’m the only person who’s ever likely to find out the rest. Dumbledore has offered to give me private lessons this year. Given his track record, I don’t think he’ll be teaching me to fight. It’ll be something else – a series of challenges, maybe. He seems to like those. Whatever it is, it will give me a chance to learn his secrets. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. I’m not a politician, Rufus, and neither are you really, so let’s speak plainly. Dumbledore has been using me for his own ends these last fifteen years, and I’m keen to get out from under his yoke. _You_ are the only person who can help me do that, but it will require considerable finesse and a _true_ partnership between us. If you can’t offer me that I’ll walk away and do it on my own. Are you interested?”

Scrimgeour leant back in his chair. This was clearly not something he’d anticipated. His expression became more wily, “I’m listening...”

Harry nodded, “Okay, as a show of faith, I’m going to tell you something that only two people on this earth are fully aware of. I’m going to tell you the contents of the Prophecy.”

Scrimgeour’s eyes went wide and he leaned forwards again, unable to conceal the hungry look on his face. “There really is a Prophecy then?”

Harry had him on the hook already, “Yes there is. It was given to Albus Dumbledore sometime before July 1980. Unfortunately, the first part was overheard by a Death Eater who immediately relayed it to Voldemort.” Harry was happy to see that Scrimgeour didn’t flinch at the name. “That’s why he killed my parents and tried to kill me. It’s also why his Death Eaters subsequently attacked Frank and Alice Longbottom. I imagine you worked alongside them in the Auror office?”

Scrimgeour nodded grimly, “I did, and a lovelier couple you will never meet. Terrible thing, what happened, terrible...”

“You can appreciate then, that whether we believe the Prophecy or not, the fact that Voldemort believes it makes it important.”

Scrimgeour nodded, “Of course... of course. Perception... Yes, very important...”

Harry jumped in before Scrimgeour could start rambling again, “You may not know this, but Voldemort attacked the Department of Mysteries recently in an effort to get hold of the Prophecy. He desperately wants to hear it in its entirety. He even risked exposing his return just so he could acquire it. Once you’ve heard it, perhaps you will understand why.”

Scrimgeour was literally on the edge of his seat, anticipation etched in his features. Like a starving lion stalking its prey, he made not a sound, waiting for Harry to reveal the information he so desperately needed.

Harry took a deep breath, “The Prophecy goes like this:

_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..._  
_Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..._  
_And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not..._  
_And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..._  
_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."_

Scrimgeour’s expression morphed from hungry excitement to appalled horror, “ _Merlin’s beard! You ARE the Chosen One!_ ”

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	3. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe Malfunction

Scrimgeour leapt to his feet and paced the room in a fierce temper, “What the hell has Dumbledore been _doing_? If only _you_ can kill Voldemort, why hasn’t Dumbledore been training you? Why haven’t we _all_ been training you?”

Harry snorted, “For the answer to that, and many other things, we will need to reach an agreement, Rufus. First, I need a gesture of good faith from you – an indication that you’re serious, and that I can rely on you to do the right thing. Revealing the prophecy is a huge concession, I think you will agree. I need an equally significant concession from you.”

“What do you have in mind, Harry?”

Harry raised his right fist, “Do you see this scar?”

There, shining white on the back of his hand, was clearly written: ‘ _I must not tell lies_ ’.

The friendly smile fell from Harry’s face, “This is what Dolores Umbridge forced me to carve into my own flesh when I refused to say that Voldemort had not returned. She also sent two Dementors to kill me the previous summer. I’m sure you can appreciate that I won’t be able to work with a Ministry that harbours such a person. She’s guilty of torturing a child with an illegal blood quill, the unauthorised use of _Veritaserum_ on more children, and the attempted murder of me and my cousin. I want her imprisoned for her crimes. Once she’s in Azkaban we can talk again.”

Harry rose to leave.

“Wait!” Scrimgeour pleaded. “I can’t just throw her in Azkaban on your say-so!”

Harry scoffed, “Of course you can! The Minister can do anything. Look at what Fudge got away with! In fact, he put Rubeus Hagrid in Azkaban on the say-so of Lucius Malfoy, and attempted to do it to Dumbledore. But relax, I’m not asking you to do it on my say-so. I’m asking you to interrogate Umbridge under _Veritaserum_. I’m sure a weak-minded person like her will sing like a canary.”

“But Veritaserum isn’t infallible!” Scrimgeour objected. “People can be trained to overcome it.”

Harry thought about that for a moment, “So you’re saying that a guilty person could train themselves to claim innocence?”

“Exactly!”

Harry grinned in triumph, “And how many people would train themselves to claim guilt, when they’re actually innocent?”

Scrimgeour opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

“Exactly,” Harry smirked. “We need to start thinking outside the box, Rufus. The Ministry spent ten years fighting Voldemort last time, and was losing badly. If we want to win _this time_ , we need to be more effective and more _ruthless_. If we can’t even convict a vile toad like Umbridge, we may as well surrender to Voldemort now.”

Scrimgeour deflated, “Fine, I’ll get the DMLE to interrogate her. In the meantime, I need to assign you a couple of Aurors as bodyguards. We can’t have you walking around unprotected, just in case you really _are_ the only one who can kill him.”

Harry mulled it over, “That would present some logistical issues, but more importantly Dumbledore will resist it. Unless... there is perhaps _one_ Auror he would accept as my bodyguard, which could work quite well for us in fact, if their loyalty can be assured.”

“Their loyalty?” Scrimgeour queried with a frown.

Harry nodded, “Yes, I’m afraid Dumbledore has compromised the loyalty of some Ministry staff.”

Scrimgeour scowled.

“I’ll tell you who once we’ve come to an arrangement,” Harry offered. “For now, I suggest that we invite our candidate to join us and conduct a little... _interview_.”

Scrimgeour nodded, “Good idea. He’ll be off-balance from being woken in the middle of the night.”

“ _She_ ”, Harry corrected. “It’s Nymphadora Tonks.”

Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow, “Isn’t she rather... junior?”

Harry shrugged, “Yes but she’s a metamorphmagus – she could pose as a boy at Hogwarts and an adult elsewhere. She can be whoever we need her to be.”

Scrimgeour was apparently convinced. He raised his wand, “ _Expecto Patronum!_ ”

Harry was expecting a lion-shaped patronus, but Scrimgeour’s patronus was non-corporeal – just a cloud of silvery vapour.

Nevertheless, he instructed it, “ _Tell Auror Tonks to report to my office immediately._ ”

The cloud of mist shot straight through the window like a rocket, and disappeared into the night.

Harry resumed his seat, “Allow me to do the talking, if you don’t mind, Rufus. I think I can get her on-side, with a little... _deception_. In the meantime, I might take you up on your earlier offer. I don’t suppose you have a Butterbeer?”

Scrimgeour chuckled and opened a cabinet to reveal a wide variety of Wizarding and Muggle beverages, “My predecessor liked to entertain.” He poured Harry a Butterbeer and himself a Firewhisky. They clinked glasses, “To a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

They were half way through their drinks when Tonks burst into the office. She’d obviously been in bed and had rushed the entire way up here, finishing dressing as she went. She was still buttoning up her shirt as she entered. Inevitably, in her flustered state, she tripped over the carpet and almost fell on her face, but managed to right herself. She looked thoroughly miserable and drawn... unwell maybe, with mousy brown hair instead of her usual bubble-gum pink... Harry wondered if she was grieving for Sirius, or if she always looked like this in the middle of the night. Then he noticed that one of her boobs had shaken loose when she stumbled. It was hanging very visibly out of her shirt. His eyes bugged out of his head.

The sight of Harry brought her up short, “Harry, what are you...” She seemed to realise where she was and abruptly stood up straight facing the Minister, “Auror Tonks reporting as instructed, Sir!”

Scrimgeour nodded, “Thank you for coming Auror Tonks. Did we wake you?”

“I’d just turned in, Sir.”

“Ah. Well, perhaps you should straighten your attire before we continue?” He pointed at her chest.

Tonks looked down and blushed furiously as she wrestled the errant boob back into her top.

Harry pretended he hadn’t noticed, though his face was burning. He pointed to the unoccupied seat, “You might want to sit down, Tonks. I have some bad news.”

She looked alarmed and sank into the chair. What little energy she had seemed to leave her and she visibly wilted.

“I’m afraid the Ministry has discovered the existence of the Order of the Phoenix.”

Tonks glanced wild-eyed at Scrimgeour, then back at Harry.

“I was the first to be arrested," Harry explained, "but they know everything. The others will all be arrested tomorrow. We face long stretches in Azkaban, I’m afraid.”

This seemed to be more than Tonks could bear. She’d already been on the verge of breaking down, by the look of her. She put her head in her hands and burst into tears. Harry quickly rounded the coffee the table and knelt in front of her with his hands on her trembling shoulders.

“It’s okay Tonks. I’ve struck a deal with the Minister. In exchange for supporting the Ministry’s campaign against Voldemort, the Minister has agreed not to press charges against any of the members of the Order. They won’t even know they’ve been discovered. Only you and I will know. That’s better than going to Azkaban, eh?”

Tonks grabbed him in a fierce hug, sniffling and nodding into his shoulder.

“The problem is Dumbledore,” Harry continued. “He’s not going to be happy about me co-operating with the Ministry, so we need him to think it’s all fake – that I’m just going through the motions and not _actually_ co-operating. But the Minister is insisting that I have an Auror bodyguard, and it has to be someone Dumbledore won’t object to. So I suggested you, and the Minister agreed. You’ll help me to work with the Ministry, while reporting to Dumbledore and the Order that it’s all a ruse and I’m not _really_ helping the Ministry. You understand?”

Tonks nodded into his shoulder again.

“We have to be convincing though. If Dumbledore discovers that we actually _are_ working with the Ministry, he’ll ruin everything. The deal will crumble and we’ll all go to Azkaban.”

Tonks raised her tear-stained face to meet Harry’s, “I understand.”

Scrimgeour poured another Firewhisky and passed it to Tonks, “Excellent! Excellent! Welcome to the club, Auror Tonks. Despite the ultimatum, let’s not forget that we are all on the same team. We three are going to bring Voldemort down, Auror Tonks, starting today.”

Tonks sniffed and gave him a watery smile, “Yes, Sir.”

Scrimgeour grinned, “When it’s just us three, please call me Rufus.”

Tonks gawped and nodded.

Harry held up his Butterbeer, “To the beginning of the end of Tom Marvolo Riddle!”

Scrimgeour and Tonks both said, “Who?” at the same time.

Harry started in surprise, “That’s Voldemort’s real name.”

Scrimgeour nearly choked on his whisky, “You’re kidding! He’s not even a _pureblood_?”

Harry smirked, “No, his father was a muggle. He told me so himself in the Little Hangleton graveyard.”

“ _Merlin’s Beard!_ ” swore Scrimgeour. “That’s propaganda gold!”

Harry chuckled, “Well, you’re welcome to use it whenever you like. Just be aware that Voldemort will go seven kinds of ape-shit when you do.”

Tonks took two large swigs of Whisky. She seemed to be having trouble keeping up with her change of circumstances. She’d gone from facing a long stretch in Azkaban to being on first-name terms with the Minister of Magic and learning things even he hadn't known.

Harry snapped her out of her daze, “Hey Tonks, is _Occlumency_ part of Auror training?”

Tonks sniffed, “Yes, of course. Aurors wouldn’t be much use if people could read their minds.”

“And could you teach me?” Harry asked.

She shrugged, “Sure. It’s not that hard really.”

Harry scowled, “I suspected as much. We have two months until I return to Hogwarts. Will that be enough time?”

“It should be, yeah.”

Scrimgeour interrupted, “I can get the Auror Dept’s official training instructor if you like?”

Harry considered it, and then shook his head, “Let’s start with Tonks and see how it goes. We don’t want Dumbledore getting suspicious and sticking his nose in, if we can help it.”

“I’ve heard you can shake off the _imperius_ ," Tonks added, "so you should have no problem with _Occlumency_."

Scrimgeour was taken aback, “You can shake off the _imperius_?”

Harry shrugged, “Yeah, Professor Moody – or rather Barty Crouch Jr under polyjuice – cast it on me last year until I could throw it off. Also, Voldemort has hit me with the _Cruciatus_ a couple of times, and of course the _Killing Curse_ once... so I’ve got a ‘full house’ where the Unforgivables are concerned.”

Scrimgeour downed his Whisky and poured himself another, “You’ve had a tough life for a fifteen-year-old, Harry.”

Harry snorted, “That’s just the tip of the iceberg. There have been at least a dozen attempts on my life in the last five years.”

Tonks and Scrimgeour both looked shocked at that.

“It’s a good job we have Tonks to keep you safe then,” the Minister noted. He raised his glass in her direction and she flushed at the complement.

Harry chuckled and rose from his seat, “I better get going. Rufus, could you get Tonks reassigned straight away? Tonks, could you come to the Burrow tomorrow morning?” They both nodded. “Good. I look forward to seeing that other thing in the Daily Prophet soon, Minister. We’ll talk again after that.”

They shook hands and Harry left the Minister chatting to Tonks.

From a few corridors away, he called Dobby to take him straight to the Weasley’s back garden.

The house was silent and dark when Harry arrived, but the kitchen door was unlocked. So much for the all Ministry’s security measures, he thought, rolling his eyes. Harry didn’t want to disturb anyone so he removed his damp shoes and curled up on the sofa.

He tried very hard not to picture Tonks’ bare boob as he waited for sleep to take him.

He failed quite spectacularly.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	4. An Excess of Phlegm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some minor angst in this chapter... but I won't make a habit of it.

Harry was woken from a rather pleasant dream about accidentally bursting in on Tonks in the shower... by the sound of pots and pans clattering about in the kitchen. He fumbled about for his glasses and took in the homely sights of the Weasley’ sitting room. With a yawn he pushed himself up off the sofa and stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

Mrs Weasley turned round as he walked in and shrieked, grasping her chest. “Oh Harry, it’s you! Gracious, you gave me a fright! When did you get here?”

Harry shrugged, “Not sure. Late last night some time... Dumbledore dropped me off.”

“Oh that man! You didn’t sleep down here did you? Well never mind, it’s lovely to have you here.” She gave him the once-over, “You’re like Ron. Both of you look as though you’ve had Stretching Jinxes put on you. I swear Ron’s grown four inches since I last bought him school robes. Are you hungry, Harry?”

Harry chatted to Mrs Weasley as she cooked him a fried breakfast. Apparently Slughorn had taught when she was at Hogwarts, and her assessment was the same as Harry’s – Slughorn could be charming, but he was obsessed with networking. A few days ago Harry would have shared her dislike of such a trait. Now though, he was wondering if Slughorn’s contacts might prove useful. Slughorn had already mentioned the Editor of the Daily Prophet, for example...

Harry was distracted from that thought by the news that Mr Weasley had been promoted, and was now running a team of ten, confiscating bogus protections against Death Eaters.

At that very moment Mr Weasley came clomping down the stairs and spotted him, “Harry! We weren’t expecting you until later this morning.” They shook hands and Mr Weasley dropped into the chair beside Harry as Mrs Weasley served up. Harry was given quite a lot more than Mr Weasley, but wolfed it all down. There was plenty more in the pan, he noticed.

Mrs Weasley spoke while they ate, “I’ve got Fred and George’s room all ready for you Harry. You’ll have it to yourself.”

“Why, where are they?” Harry asked through a mouthful of toast and scrambled eggs.

“Oh, they’re in Diagon Alley, sleeping in the little flat over their joke shop since they’re so busy,” said Mrs Weasley. “I must say, I didn’t approve at first, but they do seem to have a bit of a flair for business! Hedwig and your trunk are already upstairs.”

They chatted about the joke shop and Mr Weasley’s new job. Harry had just dropped his empty plate in the self-washing sink when more footsteps alerted them to the next set of arrivals – Hermione and Ginny. They were both still wearing pyjama trousers and tight tops. Harry couldn’t help noticing that they’d both developed very noticeable boobs, and were looking rather sexy, in a just-got-out-bed kind of way.

“Harry!” they both shrieked, and ran across the room to hug him. Their soft breasts pressed against his made him wonder what Tonks considerably larger ones would feel like. He hugged the girls back for longer than was strictly necessary. Ginny blushed slightly and Hermione gave him an odd look. She was scrutinising him as though he was sickening for something.

Ginny broke the awkward silence, “So what were you up to last night, Harry?”

Harry blanched, “Last night?”

“Yes, with Dumbledore! On some dangerous secret mission, were you?”

Hermione flashed Ginny a warning look, “We just thought he might be telling you something, or showing you something, to do with the prophecy...”

Harry scoffed, “Hardly! He just wanted me to help him persuade this old teacher to come out of retirement. Horace Slughorn – Mr and Mrs Weasley used to have him for Defence.”

“Oh it wasn’t Defence,” interrupted Mr Weasley, “Slughorn teaches Potions”.

“Potions!” cried Harry.

Mr Weasley looked surprised, “Didn’t you know? Why would you think he taught Defence?”

Harry groaned, dropped into his chair and started banging his head on the table. “No, no, no, no, no, no....”

Hermione rushed over and pulled him up, “Harry stop it! What’s wrong?”

Harry sighed heavily, “Don’t you see? If Slughorn is teaching potions...”

Hermione’s eyes went wide, “Then... Professor Snape must be teaching Defence!”

Harry nodded miserably, “Just when I thought I’d got away from the slimy git.”

Hermione visibly restrained herself from telling him off for insulting a professor. She seemed keen to distract Harry from his distress. “So, er... what’s he like? Slughorn I mean. Did he seem like he’ll be a good teacher?”

“He looks a bit like a walrus and he used to be Head of Slytherin,” said Harry. “Dunno if he’s any good, but he can’t be worse than Snape, can he?”

Hermione was watching Harry as though expecting strange symptoms to manifest themselves at any moment. She rearranged her features hastily into an unconvincing smile. “No, I suppose not.”

Ginny decided to change the subject, “Any sign of _Phlegm_ yet?”

Mr Weasley, who’d been reading his _Daily Prophet_ , put it down and frowned disapprovingly. “Don’t call her that, Ginny. Fleur is a guest in our home and we’ll treat her like one of the family.”

Ginny scowled at her food and didn’t reply.

“ _Fleur_ is here?” said Harry in disbelief, “ _Fleur Delacour?_ ”

The women seemed to suddenly find the walls and ceiling strangely fascinating. Nobody replied until Mr Weasley spoke again, “Yes, Bill and Fleur are engaged. They met at Gringotts. He’s brought her to stay for a while to meet the family... who, I must say, have greatly disappointed me.”

Ginny and Mrs Weasley looked distinctly sheepish, and even Hermione had a chastised look about her.

“Wow,” replied Harry, “that’s great news!” He was genuinely pleased, but the sentiment apparently wasn’t universal. Once again the three women shifted uneasily and avoided looking at each other.

It was left to Mr Weasley to reply, “Yes it is. Bill is very happy, and Fleur is a lovely girl.” He clapped his hands briskly, “Well, I better be off! Lots to do at the Ministry! See you all later.”

As soon as Mr Weasley left the house, the three women seemed to sigh in relief.

“Mum hates her,” said Ginny quietly.

“ _I do not hate her!_ ” said Mrs Weasley in a cross whisper. “I just think they’ve hurried into this engagement, that’s all!”

There followed a lengthy conversation about what, if anything, Bill and Fleur had in common. That was followed by a discussion of the relative merits of Fleur joining the family versus Tonks, for some reason, before Mrs Weasley disappeared to do some laundry.

Harry was confused, “Is Tonks engaged to someone as well?”

Ginny rolled her eyes, “Of course not. It’s just... she’s been over a lot recently, she’s about Bill’s age, and she’s a damn sight nicer than _Phlegm_.”

“And she’s more intelligent, she’s an Auror!” said Hermione, taking Harry completely by surprise.

“Fleur’s not stupid,” Harry offered in her defence. “She was good enough to enter the Triwizard Tournament”.

“Not you as well!” said Hermione bitterly.

“I suppose you like the way Phlegm says ‘Arry, do you?” asked Ginny scornfully.

Harry ignored Ginny and asked, “What do you mean ‘not you as well’?”

Hermione just huffed and crossed her arms. Ginny answered for her, “Ron’s been drooling every time Fleur walks in the room.”

“It’s pathetic!” added Hermione furiously.

Harry raised an eyebrow, “And why would _you_ care who Ron drools over?”

Ginny’s head snapped up and she looked straight at Hermione, apparently keen to see her reaction.

Hermione leapt out of her chair, grabbed her plate and shoved it roughly into the sink. “ _I DON’T!_ It’s just ridiculous that boys completely lose their minds over someone’s looks and a bit of Veela allure. It’s so... _superficial_!”

Harry turned to Ginny, “Hasn’t Ron got used to it yet?”

Ginny shrugged, “Nope.”

“Well, I think you’re being a little unfair, Hermione. You did go rather gaga over a certain Defence professor in second year, and he had no allure at all.”

Hermione was absolutely furious, “ _I did no such thing!_ Anyway, I was twelve and that was different. There were books about the impressive things Lockhart had done. How was I to know it was all a pack of lies?”

“And you don’t think Fleur did impressive things in the Triwizard Tournament?”

“Yes of course she did, but that’s not why Ron keeps drooling like a love-sick puppy is it?”

“Ron specifically, you mean, or boys in general?”

Hermione screamed in frustration and stormed off up the stairs, muttering incoherently in rage.

Ginny waited until Hermione was definitely gone, and then burst out laughing, “Good one, Harry.”

Harry pasted a look of angelic innocence on his face, “I don’t know what you mean. So what’s _your_ problem with Fleur?”

“It’s just the way she talks to me – you’d think I was about three!”

“Ah. You know, the first time I met her she called me a ‘leetle boy’. She’ll come around. She’s just a bit... French.”

A young woman was descending the stairs, a woman of such breathtaking beauty that the room seemed to have become strangely airless. She was tall and willowy with long blonde hair and appeared to emanate a faint, silvery glow.

“What eez all zee shouting?”

Harry rose from his chair as Fleur spotted him. “’Arry!” she said in a throaty voice. “Eet ’as been too long!”

She swept towards him gracefully, and then swooped to kiss him on each cheek. He felt the places where her mouth had touched him burn. Before she could step away he grabbed her in a hug. Over her shoulder, Harry saw Ginny raise an eyebrow. Fleur hugged him back... and images of her and Tonks together in the shower flashed though his mind.

She spoke into his ear, “I ’ave been longing to see you ‘Arry. You remember my seester, Gabrielle? She never stops talking about ’Arry Potter. She will be delighted to see you again.”

Ginny met his eye and silently mouthed, “ _longing to see you_ ”, then mimicked snogging... with tongues...

Harry glared at her and ended the hug, “Is... is she here too?” he croaked.

“No, no, silly boy,” said Fleur with a tinkling laugh, “I mean next summer, at zee wedding.”

“Oh... right, yes of course. Congratulations, I’m really happy for you.”

“Sank you, ‘Arry. Bill is very busy at ze moment, working very ’ard, and I only work part-time at Gringotts for my Eenglish, so he brought me ’ere for a few days to get to know ’is family properly. I was so pleased to ’ear you would be coming – zere isn’t much to do ’ere, unless you like cooking and chickens! Well – enjoy your breakfast, ’Arry!”

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“No. Zees Eenglish food eez too ‘eavy for me.” With these words she turned delicately and seemed to float back up the stairs.

Ginny rolled her eyes, and then looked at him appraisingly, “Since when were you such a hugger, Harry?”

“I’ve always hugged people,” he protested unconvincingly.

“No you haven’t. When Mum hugs you, you stand there like a wet fish looking uncomfortable. The only person you’ve ever hugged back is Hermione, and now you’re hugging everyone. What happened? Did you get some _action_?”

Harry scoffed, “I wish!”

Ginny’s eyebrows shot so high they were lost in her hairline.

Harry scowled, “Can we pretend I never said that?”

Ginny snorted, “In your dreams, Potter.”

Harry’s face flushed before he could stop it. Ginny pounced instantly, “Are you _blushing? You are! You’re blushing! Has something been happening in your dreams, Harry?_ ” She sauntered over to him and put a finger on his chest, mock-seductively. “Do tell! Your secret is safe with me, I won’t tell a soul...”

Without a backward glance Harry bolted up the stairs. He didn’t stop until Fred and George’s door was firmly closed behind him and Ginny’s taunting laughter was silenced.

Fred and George’s bedroom was on the second floor, above Ginny’s room. A large vase of flowers had been placed on a desk in front of the small window, but their perfume could not disguise the lingering smell of what Harry thought was gunpowder. A considerable amount of floor space was devoted to a vast number of unmarked, sealed cardboard boxes, amongst which stood Harry’s school trunk. The room looked as though it was being used as a temporary warehouse. Hedwig hooted happily at Harry from her perch on top of a large wardrobe, and then took off through the open window; Harry knew she had been waiting to see him before going hunting.

Harry was still tired, so he lay on the bed for a quick snooze. Seconds later, or so it seemed to Harry, he was woken by what sounded like cannon-fire as the door burst open. Ron smacked him on the top of his head, much to Harry’s annoyance, but they were soon catching-up on each other’s news. Ron told Harry how well Fred and George’s shop was doing, and that they’d all visit it as soon as his Dad could get time off work. Harry made no mention of his nocturnal activities yet though – he wanted to tell Ron, Hermione and Ginny all at once.

“Have you seen Hermione yet?” asked Ron.

“Yeah, she was down for breakfast earlier. She stormed off in a huff when I defended Fleur.”

Ron blew out a heavy breath, “Huh. Hermione’s been a right moody cow the last two days. Don’t know what her problem is.”

Harry smirked but chose not to enlighten him. Instead he said, “Could you ask Hermione and Ginny to come in here? There’s something I need to tell you all.”

“Er, yeah okay.” Ron headed off as Harry took a few deep breaths to calm himself.

Ron was soon back again, with the other two in tow. Hermione still looked annoyed, but Harry just waved them all inside and closed the door behind them.

“Grab a seat,” he instructed, pointing at the bed. The three of them sat in a line, looking perplexed.

Harry started pacing the room in front of them. “There are some things I need to tell you. After the Department of Mysteries, I had a long chat with Dumbledore. He told me some of the secrets he’s been keeping from us. The ‘weapon’ we thought Voldemort was after was in fact the prophecy orb. It concerns Voldemort and me, but Voldemort has only heard the first half. He’s desperate to hear the rest.”

“We prevented that though, didn’t we?” said Hermione quickly. “It got smashed so nobody will ever know.”

“We prevented him from hearing it, yes, but there _is_ someone who knows what it said – the person who was there when it was made. That person was Albus Dumbledore. He’s known what it said all along.”

All three of them looked shocked.

“Voldemort has heard the first part – the bit that says I have the power to vanquish him. That’s why he’s always trying to kill me. But he hasn’t heard the second part, which says that either of us must die at the hands of the other, for neither of us can live while the other survives.” Harry paused to let that sink in.

Ron had a horrified look on his face, “You mean... only _you_ can kill him?”

Harry nodded, “Apparently so. The _Daily Prophet_ is right – I _am_ the Chosen One. I’ve been chosen to kill or be killed.”

Ron blew out a breath, “Bloody hell!”

Hermione was covering her mouth with her hand. Tears were forming in her eyes. “Oh Harry! We wondered, after we got back from the Ministry... obviously, we didn’t want to say anything to you, but from what Lucius Malfoy said about the prophecy, how it was about you and Voldemort, well, we thought it might be something like this...”

Harry stopped pacing. Something about that statement didn’t sit right. They’d _talked_ about it... _without him?_ And it didn’t sound like they’d been _intending_ to talk to him about it either. Was _everyone_ keeping secrets from him?

Hermione stared at him in concern and whispered, “ _Are you scared?_ ”

That definitely didn’t sit right.

 _Am I scared?_ Not ‘what are we going to do’ or ‘let’s make a plan’, but ‘am I scared?’

Why did it feel like Harry was alone all of a sudden?

“ _Am I scared?_ ” he repeated in disbelief. “No, I’m _furious!_ Dumbledore has known this for fifteen years. _Fifteen!_ Not only has he kept it from me, he’s squandered fifteen years during which he should have been training me. Instead, he’s done everything he can to keep me weak and clueless. We had a huge argument about it actually, during which I destroyed quite a lot of his office. And that brings me to the reason you’re here. Dumbledore and I have had a parting of the ways. I’ve realised that we can’t rely on him. He has his own agenda, and I don’t think our welfare is high on his list of priorities. He’s going to get us all killed. If I’m to defeat Voldemort, I’ll have to work _around_ Dumbledore not _with_ him. So my question is this – are you with _me_ or are you with _Dumbledore_?”

Hermione jumped straight in, “Harry I’m sure it’s not like that. Dumbledore must have had his reasons. He’s the most powerful wizard alive and the only one Voldemort’s ever been scared of. We can’t win without him and the Order, we just can’t...”

Harry gave her a betrayed look, “Okay, so Hermione’s with Dumbledore.”

Hermione was aghast, “Harry, no! I didn’t mean...”

Harry turned to face the other two and spoke over her, “Ron? Ginny? Are you with me?”

Ginny and Ron looked at each other. Ginny began uncertainly, “Harry, we’re just kids...” and fizzled out.

Ron took up the mantle, “Mate look. We’re your friends and everything, but let’s face it you nearly got us all killed in the Department of Mysteries. If the Order and Dumbledore hadn’t turned up, we’d all be dead.”

“I didn’t make you come!” Harry replied angrily. “In fact I told you not to, but you insisted!”

“Well yeah,” Ron admitted, “but we didn’t really think that through did we? We’re just kids, like Ginny said. Those Death Eaters showed us that we’re _way_ out of our depth. We have to leave it to the adults, Harry, or we’ll just get someone ki...”

Ron broke off abruptly, but Harry had caught the implication.

He was livid, “Just get someone _killed_? Is that what you were going to say? So you think it’s _my_ fault Sirius died? Well join the club! I _know_ it was my fault! I _know_ I should have listened to Hermione when she said it was a trap. But you know why I didn’t? Because I thought Sirius was in danger and nobody else would help! That’s what you do for people you care about. It’s what I’d do for _you_ , if you were in danger. It's what I did for Ginny when she was dying in the Chamber of Secrets!”

Ginny had the good grace to flush awkwardly, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“So yes, it was my fault that we nearly died,” Harry raged, “and that Sirius _did_ die. But whose fault is it that I got tricked in the first place? It’s Dumbledore’s fault for keeping secrets from me, and Snape’s fault for not teaching me _Occulmency_ properly! This is the first time my hunches have been wrong! _The first time!_ Every other time I’ve been right. We can’t give up just because I was wrong _once_. The adults can’t be trusted to do this. They were losing the war last time and they’ll lose again this time. Thousands will die if we don’t do things differently. So guys, come on! _Are you with me?_ ”

Ron looked at Hermione and Ginny, who both stared miserably at the floor. He spoke for all three of them, it seemed.

“Sorry Harry, but the adults know more than we do, and have more magical experience. They’re much more qualified to handle this than we are. I know you’re supposed to be the Chosen One and all that, but seriously, how the hell can you beat You-Know-Who? It’s just not possible. You need Dumbledore to find a way. I’m sure he’s working on it. Just concentrate on school and trust him. That’s what we’re going to do.”

Harry examined their faces one after the other. None of them would look at him.

“Oh, I get it now,” he spat bitterly. “You’ve all talked about this haven’t you? You’ve already decided to leave the adults to it. You’ve already agreed to _abandon me_.” All three of them flinched, but Harry was unrepentant – he felt thoroughly betrayed. But then an even worse thought struck him. “If I hadn’t brought it up... _were you ever going to tell me?_ ”

Guilt was written clearly across their faces.

“No, of course you weren’t. What were you going to do? Spend all year talking me out of doing anything?”

They all shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh my God, _you were!_ You were just going to disagree with me on _everything_ weren’t you? You were going to undermine my confidence and make me do everything alone! That’s pretty cynical guys – to desert me but never even tell me! Some friends you are!”

Hermione looked stricken, “Harry please! It’s not like that!”

Harry shouted her down, “ _It’s exactly like that!_ You guys are unbelievable! Well thanks for finally being honest, at least. It’s good to know that my former friends are all two-faced back-stabbing cowards!”

Ginny stared resolutely at her feet, but Hermione looked like she’d been slapped. Tears sprang into her eyes and her lip began to tremble. Ron, on the other hand, was clearly working himself up into a furious denial. His ears had gone bright red. Harry had no desire to hear his excuses. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone now, thank you. More alone than I _already am_ , I mean. Now _GET OUT!_ ”

He started herding them towards the door. They were talking over each other, but Harry ignored it all. He pushed them forcibly out the door and slammed it shut behind them.

In the silence that followed, he heard Ron reassuring the girls, “He’ll come around, don’t worry. We’re doing this for his own good – it’s the best thing for everyone...” Their voices faded as they trooped up the stairs to Ron’s room.

Harry lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Thank goodness he’d decided to challenge Dumbledore! If he hadn’t he’d probably have spent the entire year being stymied by his own so-called friends. He’d have achieved _absolutely nothing_ while Voldemort and his Death Eaters ran amok, killing the innocent and advancing their plans completely unopposed! For an entire year! That was more than enough time for Voldemort to take over the Ministry, and maybe even Hogwarts!

It beggared belief that his friends could be so stupid. They were letting their fear do their thinking for them. Harry might not be perfect, but he never let fear stop him from doing the right thing. That’s what being a Gryffindor was all about, wasn’t it?

His friends’ betrayal cut him deep, but what hurt the most was Hermione’s treachery. She’d been his most loyal supporter... in fact his _only_ loyal supporter – she’d stuck with him through thick and thin. Ron had let Harry down plenty of times, but never Hermione. Why was she deserting him now? _What had changed?_

The only change he was aware of was that Hermione had started to fancy Ron. But surely that wasn’t the reason? Would she throw away her beliefs and side with Ron just so he would like her more? It would be a pretty piss-poor thing for her to do, if so... and Harry would never have believed it... except that the way she’d talked about Fleur this morning was so unlike her. Frankly, Hermione had been a bit of a bitch – just like the gossipy dorm-mates she so frequently criticised.

Were Hermione’s ethics so flexible? Could she turn them on and off when she felt like it? Harry had thought she was better than that. In fact, Hermione had always been his moral compass – he’d aspired to be as good a person as she was. He knew she wasn’t perfect, but she’d always been the most honourable person he knew. Was that still true? Had it _ever_ been true?

Either he’d been wrong about her from the beginning, or her attraction to Ron had completely undermined her morals.

Harry wasn’t sure which was worse.

Regardless, he’d just lost all three of his best friends in one fell swoop. A dark cloud of despair settled over him.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apart from Harry’s reactions, everything in this chapter is canon – Hermione _was_ a bitch to Fleur, she and Ron and Ginny _did_ talk about the Dept of Mysteries behind Harry’s back, they _did_ subsequently keep that discussion to themselves, they _did_ spend the following academic year telling Harry that everything was fine, and they _refused_ to get involved in anything related to Death Eaters and Voldemort. For example, they dismissed Harry's claim that Draco Malfoy was up to something, despite all the evidence (and despite their previous experience of his shady character) and refused to help Harry figure out what Malfoy was doing. That ultimately resulted in Malfoy’s plan succeeding – he smuggled Death Eaters into the school and Dumbledore was killed. All I’ve done is connect the dots. Hermione’s inadvertent comments certainly point in that direction...


	5. The Bodyguard

It was perhaps an hour later when Mrs Weasley shouted up the stairs, “Harry dear, could you come down. There’s someone here to see you.”

Harry descended the stairs to find everyone gathered in the kitchen. They were all seated, apart from Tonks who looked like she’d just arrived. She had a large suitcase either side of her.

“Tonks has something to tell you Harry,” Mrs Weasley informed him, clearly irritated that Tonks hadn’t told her what it was.

Harry met Tonks’ eyes, but couldn’t help glancing down at her boobs. Tragically, they were both completely covered. He blushed furiously and looked away. Tonks had apparently known exactly what he was thinking and blushed furiously too, staring at the ground while she spoke.

“Wotcha Harry. Erm... the Minister for Magic has decided that... as the Chosen One... you need a round-the-clock bodyguard... and erm... I have been assigned to that... position.”

Harry noticed that Ginny was looking back and forth between them with an incredulous expression on her face. He tried to ignore her and focused on what Tonks had said. That wasn’t quite what he’d agreed with Scrimgeour...

“What do you mean, ‘round the clock’?” he asked.

Tonks began worrying at one of her nails. In a small voice she replied, “I’m never to leave your side.”

“ _Never?_ ” Harry queried.

“Never,” Tonks confirmed.

Bizarrely, it was Hermione who reacted first. “ _WHAT?_ ” she shrieked.

Mrs Weasley wasn’t far behind. “I’m sorry dear,” she said in a tone that reminded Harry unpleasantly of Dolores Umbridge, “Are you saying that you expect to _share a room_ with Harry, because I can tell you right now _that won’t be happening under my roof!_ ”

Tonks shuffled uncomfortably, “I understand, Molly. The Minister instructed me to say that if appropriate arrangements can’t be made here, then Harry will be moved to another location.”

Mrs Weasley spluttered, “Another location? But he’s only just arrived! We’ve had extra security...”

Harry rubbed his face with both hands and then stalked across the room, “Would you all excuse us for a moment?”

He put an arm round Tonks’ shoulders and steered her out the back door. They walked half way down the garden so they couldn’t be overheard. Harry turned Tonks around so that her back was to the house.

“Are you okay, Tonks?”

She nodded weakly.

“This is Rufus’s idea I take it?”

She nodded again.

“Well, I suppose it will give us the privacy we need for the _Occulmency_ lessons. Was that the point?”

Tonks shrugged, “I guess, and I think he really is worried about your safety – that’s why he wanted to assign two Aurors...”

Harry sighed, “Okay, well, we’ll just have to make the most of it. To be honest, I’m not fussed about staying here anyway. I’ve tested the water, and apart from Fleur, they’re all in Dumbledore’s pocket. In fact my so-called friends have all abandoned me. We can’t trust any of them.”

Tonks wiped her eyes on her sleeve and frowned. Whatever had been upsetting her before was clearly still bothering her, but her concern for Harry seemed to outweigh it.

“Abandoned you?” she asked, putting a hand on his arm supportively.

Harry looked away, his eyes prickling. He couldn’t keep the anger from his voice, “Yeah, they don’t want to fight anymore. They just want to leave the adults to it. I thought they understood! I thought they knew that dropping out of the fight isn’t a luxury available to me! Voldemort will come after me no matter what! On top of which, he killed my parents. How can I walk away from that?”

Now it was Harry’s turn to wipe his eyes on his sleeve.

Tonks rubbed his shoulder in sympathy, “I’m sorry Harry.”

“It’s okay,” Harry sniffed. “It’s not your fault. And I don’t blame them for wanting out... what I can’t forgive is that they were too _gutless_ to tell me. Even worse, they were planning to spend the _entire year_ insisting that everything was fine, undermining everything I did, and refusing to help me. How low is that? Don’t they get it? People are dying! Voldemort’s building an army! If we stick our heads in the sand for a year he’ll win! I can’t let that happen, but I don’t know if I can do this alone...”

Tonks clearly didn’t know what to say, so she pulled him into a hug. It seemed like she needed it as badly as he did, so Harry wrapped his arms around her and they just held each other. They were the same height now, he noticed – he’d grown a lot since last year. And it felt great holding her this close, especially since her soft boobs were pressed rather marvellously against his chest. Harry had never been so obsessed with boobs before, but seeing Tonks’ bare breast last night seemed to have woken something in him – he just couldn’t stop thinking about girls’ chests.

Tonks had much larger boobs than Hermione and Ginny, Harry noticed, and he was very much a fan of that. He pictured his and Tonks’ naked bodies entwined, his mouth lowering onto her breast, his tongue licking her nipple... Tonks groaning in pleasure...

He was enjoying that thought when he noticed five faces plastered against the kitchen windows, staring at him and Tonks. He coughed and pulled away quickly, “Right, well... er... follow my lead, okay?”

Tonks nodded cheekily, “Whatever you say boss.”

They made their way back to the house. Inside, five shadowy outlines scrambled to return to their places.

“Sharing a room with you might not be so bad I suppose,” Harry commented as he reached for the door handle. “You can’t possibly snore as loudly as Ron.”

Against her will, Tonks snorted in laughter as Harry opened the door. She smacked him across the arm, “I do _not_ snore!”

Inside the kitchen everyone goggled at them. Harry had no idea why, but Tonks blushed furiously. Had he missed something?

Everyone had resumed their seats as if they’d never moved. Harry raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who looked away guiltily. She was hopeless at concealing any wrong-doing because she always felt bad about it.

“Sorry Mrs Weasley,” Harry announced, “it seems the Minister is quite adamant about me being protected twenty four hours a day. I’ll go pack my stuff and we’ll be out of here in a few minutes. Sorry I couldn’t stay everyone.”

Harry waved as he headed up the stairs, followed closely by Tonks.

He shut the bedroom door behind her and sniggered, “Did you see their faces! Hilarious!”

Tonks smiled weakly. Her low mood seemed to be returning.

Harry was already packed so he lay on the bed and folded his hands behind his head, “What do reckon? Five minutes before Mrs Weasley comes up?”

Tonks wiggled her hand, “Three minutes.”

Harry chuckled. “While we wait, perhaps you should tell me what’s got you so upset?”

The feeble smile dropped abruptly from her face, “It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Harry frowned and lifted himself up on his elbows, “Tonks, you understand what we’re doing here, right? We’re not playing some children’s game. This is _deadly_ serious. More serious than anything you’ve ever done. More serious than anything you ever _will do_. We’re plotting to bring down the most powerful Dark Lord for generations, behind the back of the _second_ most powerful Wizard for generations. If there’s something going on in your life that might impair your performance, I need to know about it. We’re in this together, you and me. We’re a team, and while they may not know it, everyone is relying on us. _Everyone!_ Mrs Weasley is worried about our virtue, but she should really be worried about the ten years she’d be spending in Azkaban if it weren’t for you and me. So, whatever it is that’s bothering you, I need to know about it.”

Tonks looked deeply uncomfortable and stared out the window for a few long seconds before she spoke. “It’s... It’s that I’ve been dating Remus... but he’s decided that he’s too old for me, and it wouldn’t work between us because of his... condition.”

Harry was completely taken by surprise, “You’ve been seeing Professor Lupin?” He breathed out heavily. “Wow, okay. But he’s ended it?”

Tonks eyes dropped to her lap and she nodded miserably.

Harry had really liked Professor Lupin during his third year, but the man had been conspicuous by his absence when Harry was fighting for his life in the Triwizard Tournament during fourth year. Lupin’s only significant contributions in his fifth year were to insist that Harry continue his _Occlumency_ lessons with Snape (no matter how badly Snape was screwing them up), and to stop Harry from following Sirius into the Veil. These days, Harry was much less sure that he actually liked the man, and from the sounds of it Lupin had been stringing Tonks along. If he thought he was too old for her, or that his condition was a problem, why date her in the first place?

Harry huffed, “Well then he’s an idiot. He’d be lucky to have you, and frankly if he broke up with you because he thinks he’s unworthy then he probably is. You can do better than date someone who feels sorry for themselves all the time.”

Tonks stared at him open-mouthed, and then visibly brightened. The tension fell from her shoulders and the mischievous twinkle returned to her eye.

“Thanks Harry. I’ve been talking to Molly and she’s been telling me that he’ll come round... and I should just give him time. Well, screw that! You’re right – he _is_ an idiot and he _would_ be lucky to have me! I can do _way better_ than that miserable old git!”

Harry nodded sagely, “Ginny can fix you up with Bill if you’re interested?”

That was so unexpected that Tonks burst out laughing. Harry grinned at her. It was nice to see her laugh again. She’d always been such a cheerful soul; Lupin had a lot to answer for, making her miserable like that.

Mrs Weasley knocked on the door and entered without waiting for a reply. Harry scowled at her.

She had the decency to look embarrassed, but she didn’t apologise, “I’ve been thinking that perhaps I should discuss the situation with Arthur before we make any decisions.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “That’s okay Mrs Weasley. I can see that you’re not comfortable with the Minister’s orders. I’m sure that Auror Tonks can safeguard my life almost as proficiently somewhere else. The Minister will understand.”

Mrs Weasley paled at the idea of upsetting the Minister for Magic, “Well obviously the Minster’s orders... I mean I wouldn’t dream... Your safety is... No, leave it to me, Harry. I’ll speak to Arthur. I’m sure we can sort this all out.”

She closed the door and left Harry alone with Tonks once more.

“How long was that?” Harry asked.

Tonks checked her watch and smirked, “Three minutes.”

“Good job we didn’t put any money on it then!” Harry replied. Tonks’ eyes narrowed.

Harry started fishing around in Fred and George’s drawers and wardrobes. After a minute he cried out in triumph, “Ha! Found ‘em! Don’t speak for a moment – I’m just going to lower these down the stairs.”

He eased the door open and tip-toed out into the hall, then lowered two pink strings down the stairwell. Once he was satisfied with their position he backed into the room and closed the door silently.

“These are extendible ears,” he explained, passing one to Tonks. “We can hear what they’re saying downstairs. Ginny and Hermione are on the landing below.” They both put one in their ear and heard the sound of hushed voices.

Ginny was whispering, “I’m telling you, there’s something going on between Harry and Tonks. He definitely got some action recently, and she’s been looking really distracted.”

Hermione was incredulous, “What do you mean, ‘he got some action’?”

“I mean that he got some _action_ – heavy snogging, a cheeky fumble, who knows... but he’s different. He’s all tactile and... well... _horny_ to be frank. When he gave me a hug earlier it felt like he had a semi.”

Hermione was shocked, “ _He never!_ ”

Harry felt the colour drain from his face. Tonks tried to suppress her laughter and failed completely.

Ginny continued vehemently, “I swear! Either that or his wand was poking me in the thigh, but he carries that in his back pocket. Also, when Tonks arrived he definitely checked her out in an ‘I’ve seen her naked’ kind of way, and she blushed in a ‘he’s seen me naked’ kind of way.”

Hermione was aghast, “No!”

Tonks was equally outraged. “You have _not_ seen me naked!” she hissed.

Harry smirked, “I’ve seen your boobs.”

“You have _not_ seen my boobs! You’ve seen one boob!”

“Is the other one different?”

“Of course not!” replied Tonks, offended.

“Well then I’ve seen both boobs haven’t I?” Harry responded in a self-satisfied tone. Tonks glared at him.

The brief silence downstairs was broken by Ginny’s hesitant declaration, “I think... I think Harry might be _shagging_ Tonks...”

Hermione was appalled, “But he’s only fifteen! And she’s like... _twice_ his age!”

“ _I’m twenty two!_ ” Tonks growled indignantly.

A new voice spoke up – Fleur was passing by, on her way up the stairs. “Good for ‘Arry! I am ‘appy for eem. But she ‘as let ‘erself go, zat Tonks.”

“That’s true,” Ginny agreed.

Tonks gasped, “ _I have not let myself go!_ ”

Tonks seethed in fury, apparently unaware that her hair had begun cycling rapidly through all the colours of the rainbow. It eventually settled on a pale silvery blue. But the transformation didn’t stop there. Her face narrowed, her cheek bones lifted and lips thinned down. The outline of her legs and hips slimmed beneath her clothes and her chest lifted. By the time her transformation was complete her sickly appearance had completely gone, replaced by a younger more vibrant version of herself. She looked absolutely amazing.

Harry wasn’t sure if Tonks was even aware she’d done it, but Harry was very aware. Harry had always found Tonks attractive, but now she was breathtaking. He wondered what her new perky boobs would look like naked...

With a start he snapped himself back to the present.

Hermione was sounding sceptical, “When would Harry and Tonks have had the chance to... get romantic?”

Ginny snorted. “ _Get romantic?_ Hermione, you’re so old-fashioned! Maybe Tonks was on guard at his relatives’ house over the summer and Harry invited her in to help... you know... _service his broom_.”

Hermione sounded doubtful, “I’m sure Harry can service his broom just fine on his own.”

Ginny laughed out loud, “I didn’t mean actually _service his broom_ , Hermione! Good lord, it’s like talking to a nun. I meant... you know... _polish his wand_... _stroke his quill_... _beat his bludger..._ ”

Hermione seemed to get it now. “ _Ginny!_ ” she shrieked in a scandalised tone.

Harry wondered if Ginny had demonstrated with her hands.

“Well, I wouldn’t blame Tonks for having a go,” Ginny continued, undaunted. “Have you noticed how tall Harry is these days? Maybe his height isn’t the only thing that’s grown...”

Hermione was outraged again, “ _Ginevra Molly Weasley!_ Wash your mouth out!”

Ginny was unrepentant, “What? I’m just saying. Anyway, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. I’ve seen the way you look at Harry.”

“ _I do not!_ ” denied Hermione.

Ginny scoffed, “Oh sure. Keep telling yourself that. You look at him like you look at a new textbook – as if you want to take him to your room to be alone and run your hands over his soft leathery...”

“ _I do no such thing!_ ” Hermione insisted. “Harry and I are just friends!” There was a brief pause and then she added, “No matter how fanciable he’s become recently.”

There were several seconds of silence, and then both girls burst into giggles.

Harry’s face was burning, not helped by Tonks smirking at him and eyeing him speculatively.

Harry grabbed a towel, “Gotta go shower, bye!” He dashed out the door without a backward glance.

When Harry returned from his very cold shower, he found that Tonks had rearranged the room so that the twins’ boxes were all piled up in the corner. The room was much less cramped now. The extendible ears were rolled up on the bed.

“Useful things, those,” remarked Tonks. She was unpacking clothes from her two suitcases and laying them out on her bed. “I assume you’re using that bed, so I’m using this one?”

“Er... yeah, sure.”

Harry was a bit distracted by the fact that he’d come back from the shower with his towel round his waist... and now had nowhere to change.

Tonks raised an amused eyebrow at him, “Didn’t think that through, did you Harry?”

“Um...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll turn round while you change.” She turned around and carried on folding her clothes.

“Thanks!” Harry quickly turned his back to Tonks and dropped the towel. He slipped his boxers and jeans on as fast as he could. Once he was done he breathed a sigh of relief and turned back around... to find Tonks looking _right at him_.

“That’s a cute bum you’ve got there, Harry.”

“ _YOU PEEKED!?!”_ he squealed in outrage.

“I didn’t peek,” she replied. “I had a _good long look_... and now we’re even for the boob thing.”

Harry spluttered, “That’s not getting even! I saw your boob by accident, and for barely half a second!”

“Did you know you’ve got a little birth mark the shape of Australia on your left butt cheek?”

Harry frantically pulled on a t-shirt, grabbed some socks and sprinted from the room. Tonks’ tinkling laughter followed him down the stairs. Even her laugh had become sexier, Harry noted, as he burst into the kitchen. Mrs Weasley was serving Ron second helpings of breakfast by the looks of it, while the girls were back at the table chatting.

Ron gave him a puzzled look, “You alright there, Harry. You look a bit flustered.”

“What? No I’m fine. Nothing happened. Everything’s completely normal.” He flushed even redder.

Footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. Harry glanced up long enough to see Tonks’ legs, and then looked away.

Nobody else was paying much attention, except Ron, whose fork slowed to a halt half way to his mouth.

“ _Bloody hell!_ ” he exclaimed.

“ _Language, Ron!_ ” scolded Mrs Weasley, turning round and freezing on the spot.

Everyone looked up to see what all the fuss was about... and got an eye full of Tonks’ new look. She was quite a sight – almost as beautiful as Fleur, but with silvery-blue hair that gave her a very ethereal look. She reminded Harry of one of the female characters in Dudley’s weird graphic novels.

Food fell off Ron’s fork and landed on his plate with a splash, “Crikey Tonks! You look a bit... different.”

Tonks’ laugh tinkled like little bells, “Harry managed to cheer me up, didn’t you Harry?”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open. Ginny gave her a wide-eyed and meaningful look.

Fleur beamed in delight. She grabbed Tonks by the arm and pulled her into the chair next to her. “You look amazing Tonks! I wish I could do zat wiz my ‘air! And your breasts, zey are magnificent! It eez good to see you ‘appy again.”

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	6. Occlumency

Harry wracked his brains for some way to change the subject, and had a flash of inspiration, “Mrs Weasley, have any owls arrived this morning? Dumbledore said our exam results would arrive today.”

As expected, Hermione went nuclear, “ _WHAT?_ ”

“No, dear, I’d have noticed,” Mrs Weasley answered him, “But it’s barely nine, there’s still plenty of time...”

Hermione jumped up and started walking round and round the kitchen, twisting her fingers together. “I know I messed up Ancient Runes,” she muttered feverishly, “I definitely made at least one serious mistranslation. And the Defence Against the Dark Arts practical was no good at all. I thought Transfiguration went all right at the time, but looking back...”

“Hermione, will you shut up, you’re not the only one who’s nervous!” barked Ron. “And when you’ve got your ten ‘Outstanding’ O.W.L.'s...”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t!” said Hermione, flapping her hands hysterically. “I know I’ve failed everything!”

Harry relaxed, having diverted attention away from himself and Tonks, but Ginny was giving him a very hard stare.

“At Beauxbatons,” said Fleur complacently, “we ’ad a different way of doing things. I think eet was better. We sat our examinations after six years of study, not five, and then...” Fleur’s words were drowned by a scream. Hermione was pointing through the kitchen window. Three black specks were clearly visible in the sky, growing larger all the time.

“They’re definitely owls,” said Ron hoarsely, jumping up to join Hermione at the window.

“And there are three of them,” said Harry, hastening to her other side.

“One for each of us,” said Hermione in a terrified whisper. “Oh no... oh no... oh no...” She gripped both Harry and Ron tightly around the elbows.

Mrs Weasley squeezed past them and opened the kitchen window. The owls soared through it and landed on the table in a neat line. Ron, Hermione and Harry each detached their envelope with a mixture of excitement and dread.

Harry had an ‘O’ in Defence, he’d failed History of Magic and Divination, and got E’s in everything else. He was pretty happy with that. He looked round. Hermione had her back to him and was still poring over her results, but Ron was looking delighted.

“Only failed Divination and History of Magic, and who cares about them?” he said happily to Harry. “Here – swap...” Harry glanced down Ron’s grades: there were no ‘O’s’ there, but like Harry, he’d passed seven subjects.

“Knew you’d be top in Defence Against the Dark Arts,” said Ron, punching Harry on the shoulder. “We’ve done all right, haven’t we?”

“Well done!” said Mrs Weasley proudly, ruffling Ron’s hair. “Seven O.W.L.s. That’s more than Fred and George got together!”

“Hermione?” said Ginny tentatively, for Hermione still hadn’t turned round. “How did you do?”

“I – not bad,” said Hermione in a small voice.

“Oh, come off it,” said Ron, striding over and whipping her results out of her hand. “Yep – nine ‘Outstandings’ and one ‘Exceeds Expectations’ in Defence Against the Dark Arts.” He looked down at her, half amused, half exasperated. “You’re actually disappointed, aren’t you?” Hermione shook her head, but Harry laughed.

“Well, we’re N.E.W.T. students now,” grinned Ron. “Mum, are there any more sausages?”

Harry looked back down at his results. They were as good as he could have hoped for. That ‘E’ in potions would have been the end of his ambition to become an Auror if Snape was still teaching potions. With Slughorn it might be different, but it didn’t matter anyway – Scrimgeour had implied that Harry could become an Auror regardless. That raised an interesting possibility. He could take potions with Slughorn, drop Defence with Snape, and still become an Auror! That thought brought a grin to his face.

After breakfast, Ron suggested they play three-a-side Quidditch in the orchard, but Tonks intervened.

“Unfortunately Harry and I need to start some... um, special... one-on-one training.”

Ron looked horrified, “ _Training?_ But it’s the summer holidays!”

Tonks shrugged, “There’s no rest for the wicked, eh Harry? Come on...” She started dragging him towards the stairs.

Hermione frowned, “But don’t you need to be outside for duelling? What sort of training can you do in your room?”

Tonks grinned at her, “Oh, you know... lots of er... close contact techniques, like... um... wrestling...”

Ginny’s eyes were the size of saucers. Harry saw her give Hermione another meaningful look as he disappeared up the stairs.

Tonks hustled him into their room, then locked and silenced the door.

“Okay Harry, let’s get started on those _Occlumency_ lessons. The first few days are the hardest, so the sooner we begin the better.” She sat cross-legged on the floor and pointed, “Sit in front of me. We’ll start with a few test runs to see how far you got with Snape, and go from there.” Harry sat in front of her, and tried hard not to notice how breathtaking she looked. “I’m going to cast _Legilimens_. Try to stop me getting in, okay? If I get through I’ll try to come out straight away.” Harry nodded. Tonks raised her wand and pointed it at his head, “Three... two... one... _Legilimens!_ ”

They were in Scrimgeour’s office, Tonks’ boob had fallen out... the first boob he’d ever seen... Oh God, Tonks was seeing this! Harry panicked. _No, no, no, no!_ He felt a thump on the back of his head. “Ow!” The room slowly came into focus. He was staring at the ceiling. Apparently he’d fallen over backwards. He pushed himself back into a sitting position.

Tonks had lowered her wand and was rubbing her wrist. There was an angry weal there, like a scorch mark.

“You did a wandless stinging hex!”

“Sorry.”

“Was that the first time you ever saw a woman’s boobs, Harry?”

Harry hung his head in embarrassment and nodded miserably.

Tonks was astounded, “Seriously? How is that possible? Don’t you realise that half the girls in the country would jump into bed with you in a heartbeat?”

Harry shook his head, refusing to look anywhere but at the floor.

“Wow. Well, never mind that for now. Let’s try again, okay? See if you can keep me out this time. Ready? Okay, three... two... one... _Legilimens!_ ”

Harry was dreaming... he opened the bathroom door and there was Tonks... in the shower, lathering her naked body in soap...

“ _NOOOOOOOOO!_ ”

Harry was on his back again. He threw his arm over his face in mortification.

Tonks coughed, “Erm, was that a dream you had Harry?”

Harry nodded without removing his arm.

“I thought it must be, because that’s now how I look... down there.”

Harry hadn’t thought it was possible to be any more embarrassed than he was, but that comment proved how wrong he could be. He groaned pitifully, “Oh God. Just kill me now.”

“Come on, Harry. We need to do this one more time. Shake it off.” Harry wrestled himself back into a sitting position but refused to meet her gaze. “Are you ready? Okay, three... two... one... _Legilimens!_ ”

Harry was hugging Tonks... he could feel her boobs pressed against him... suddenly they were naked, their nipples touching... His mouth closed over her breast, his tongue stroking her nipple... Tonks groaned in pleasure...

Then something shifted... Harry could see their naked bodies intertwined, but he could also see Tonks sitting facing him, fully clothed and muttering under her breath... He concentrated and the clothed Tonks grew clearer... in his mind, Harry raised an imaginary wand, “ _Protego!_ ”

Tonks’ wand flew from her fingers... suddenly Harry’s mind was filled with a memory that wasn’t his... he was staring at himself, wrapped in a towel... the towel fell to the floor, revealing his naked and muscular backside... female hands reached out and grabbed his bum roughly... he whirled around... to reveal his large and erect penis... one of the female hands grabbed it... her lips parted and her mouth lowered slowly towards his cock...

“ _STOP!_ ”

Harry felt as though he had been pushed hard in the chest; he fell backwards and rolled completely over his shoulders before landing in a heap up against the wall. Tonks was shaking slightly, and was very red in the face.

She cleared her throat, “Erm, Harry... about that... Um...”

Harry smirked, “Was that a dream you had Tonks? Because that’s not how I look... down there.”

Tonks glowered, “Right, yes, very clever Harry... Moving on... I think that will do as far as testing goes. That was very um... illuminating.”

“I’ll say,” Harry replied smugly. So Tonks had been fantasising about him? When was that, he wondered?

“I meant in terms of your _Occlumency_ skills,” she growled. “You have some really strong raw talent, but it’s completely undeveloped. I can’t believe you had months of lessons with Snape and he basically taught you nothing. The man’s either a moron or the worst _Occulmency_ teacher ever.”

“Or both,” Harry agreed.

“True. Well, the good news is that you’re a natural _Legilimens_. Only a natural could invade my mind the way you did at the end there. That means you should be good at _Occulmency_ too, since they’re closely related. The bad news is that you currently have no defensive _Occlumency_ at all. I was able to get into your mind without any resistance whatsoever. Once I was in, your offensive _Occulmency_ eventually allowed you to throw me out, but ideally you want to stop people getting in at all.”

Harry was paying very close attention, not just because he was desperate to learn _Occulmency_ , but because he was keen to keep his mind off what she’d seen in his head.

“Can you tell me what you did to throw me out each time?” Tonks asked.

“The first two times, not really. It felt like accidental magic. The third time, I started to see an image of you sitting in front of me. I focused on that until it was the sharper of the two images, then I pictured myself casting a shield with an imaginary wand.”

“Huh. Well I’ve never heard of anyone doing it that way, but it obviously works for you. We’ll come back to that. Let’s focus on your defensive _Occulmency_ first. What did Snape teach you?”

Harry snorted, “Nothing at all, really. He just said things like, ‘Brace yourself, repel me with your brain, clear your mind, and let go of emotion’. None of which made any sense to me.”

Tonks shook her head, “Good grief. No wonder you didn’t learn anything. Those instructions are awful. That’s like teaching someone to ride a bike by shouting ‘balance’ at them. I bet Snape was a natural _Occlumens_ and never had a lesson in his life. He was telling you _what_ to do but not _how_ to do it. What a jackass.” She shook her head again in disbelief. “Okay, let’s go back to basics. If I say, ‘Clear your mind’, do you know how to do that?”

“Not really, I mean I try to think of nothing, but then all these things start popping into my head.”

Tonks nodded, “Yeah, that’s what it’s like for most people. You can train yourself to stop doing that, using meditation and lots of practice, but it takes ages and there’s a much easier way. Instead of trying to empty your mind of all thought, it’s easier to focus your mind on a _single_ thought. Not a memory, but something innocuous and normal... like your own breathing. That’s actually a really good choice for most people, because focusing on your breathing helps you to calm down and let go of emotion. It kills three birds with one stone, as it were. Give it a go right now – close your eyes and focus on breathing evenly for three minutes. I’ll let you know when the time is up.”

Harry did as instructed. To begin with his breathing was ragged, his heart was pounding, his emotions were in turmoil and random thoughts kept popping into his head. But soon everything started to settle down and he felt a profound sense of inner peace. Fewer and fewer random thoughts intruded on his mind, until it all he was thinking about was breathing. He almost felt like he was floating in a sea of calm...

Tonks squeezed his shoulder gently. Harry opened his eyes, “Is that three minutes already?”

Tonks smiled, “That was fifteen minutes, Harry.”

“Fifteen! You’re kidding!”

“Nope. It’s amazing how effective that breathing thing is, hey? Now, that place where you were just now, where everything is calm... that’s the place you need to get to before I cast _Legilimens_. At present it’ll take you a little while to get there, but eventually it’ll become an instinct. You’ll be able to do it in an instant. That’s not the end of the story though – that place is just the _foundation_ for your defence. The _actual_ defence comes next. Let’s work on that foundation first though.”

They spent the next few hours working on the breathing exercise, getting Harry accustomed to that relaxed and carefree feeling. By lunchtime Harry was elated. He felt like he’d achieved more in one morning than he had in months with Snape.

As they entered the kitchen for lunch, Harry was practically gushing, “Thanks Tonks, that was absolutely amazing. I’ve never felt so relaxed! We should do it again tonight!”

Tonks tittered, “Yeah, okay. I might need a few hours to recover though. My wrist is a bit sore.”

Ginny, Hermione, Fleur and Ron were all staring at them open-mouthed.

Harry looked from face to face, “ _What?_ ”

\- § -

After lunch, Tonks suggested that she teach Harry some of the stuff she’d learnt in Auror training.

“Isn’t that what you were doing all morning?” asked Hermione suspiciously.

Tonks shook her head, “No, we were doing... something else.”

Hermione was clearly bursting with curiosity, or some other emotion... but Harry wasn’t sure what; disapproval maybe?

“Well,” Hermione continued in an officious tone, “you can’t work on Defence, because Harry’s still underage.”

Tonks waved off her objection, “Nah, the Trace doesn’t work in magical households like this one. It’s up to the parents to enforce the underage magic rules here. Anyway, I have permission from the Minister to teach Harry whatever I want.”

Ginny seemed very interested in that statement, “ _Whatever you want – as in_ , _anything at all?_ ”

Tonks smirked, “That’s right Ginevra – _anything at all._ ”

Hermione had been working something through in her head, “Wait a minute! Are you telling me that children with magical parents can do magic _outside of school_ , if their parents allow it?”

Tonks shrugged, “Well yeah. Didn’t you know that?”

Hermione was appalled, “ _No I did not know that!_ That’s... that’s... outrageous discrimination against muggleborns!”

“Nah it’s just common sense isn’t it,” Ron interjected unwisely, “we can’t take the risk that a muggle might see a muggleborn doing magic, can we?”

“ _You knew about this!_ ” Hermione screeched.

She was absolutely incensed. The fact that Mrs Weasley forbade her children from practicing magic outside school didn’t dent Hermione’s anger in the slightest. Over the next half hour she and Ron became increasingly irate with each other, culminating in a blazing row which only ended when they both stormed up the stairs and slammed their bedroom doors.

In the silence that followed Harry whispered to Tonks, “You knew that was going to happen didn’t you?”

Tonks assumed a look of sweet innocence, “That Hermione would go bananas about magical kids doing magic outside school? No, that was a complete surprise.” Her eyes twinkled. “Come on Harry let’s head outside and see how well you can fight.”

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	7. Immersion Therapy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut alert! Smut level rising!

Four hours later, Harry and Tonks returned to the house sweaty and exhausted. The kitchen was deserted.

“Your reflexes are amazing,” Tonks declared. “The power in your spells is insane, and your aim is fantastic even when you’re on the move, but your spell repertoire is really limited. You use _expelliarmus_ more than anyone I’ve ever met. I can see why you’d think it’s a great spell – because once you’ve disarmed someone they seem helpless. But they can still run away, or attack you with a dagger, or use a portkey to escape. I wouldn’t put it past a Death Eater to carry two wands either, so you think they’re disarmed but they’re not. Either way, you need to land a _second_ spell on them to disable them completely. It would be better to land a disabling spell on them to start with. The situation is even worse when there’s more than one opponent. After you’ve disarmed one, you still have to keep an eye on them while you fight the others. Meanwhile, they could grab a wand off someone who’s down, putting themselves back in the fight. Basically, you should use proper disabling spells from the offset – ones that can’t be easily reversed by their buddies.”

She grabbed them a glass of water each and took a large swig.

“Your second favourite spell is _stupefy_ , which has the obvious drawback that someone could _renervate_ them and put them back in the fight. Your third favourite is _petrificus totalus_ which has the same drawback. Your fourth favourite is _impedimenta_ which is frankly the worst of the lot. It might be useful against a single opponent in a formal duel, but in a battle situation it’s a waste of a spell. If you hit an enemy with that, you could have hit them with something that does more than just slow them down.”

Harry blew out a heavy breath, “Wow! Don’t hold back Tonks. Tell me what you really think.”

Tonks grinned, “Okay, I’ll stop sugar-coating it. You fight like a _twelve year old girl_ , Harry.”

“ _I do not fight like a twelve year old girl!_ ”

“Yeah, you do. I’m going to start calling you Harriet.”

Harry scowled, while Tonks did that tinkling laugh that made his stomach flutter.

“Come on Harry, we need to freshen up, and I need to talk to you about something.”

Tonks led him to their room, and closed the door behind him. Harry collapsed onto his bed.

“We need to talk about our rooming arrangements,” Tonks began. “We’re going to be living in each other’s pockets for at least six weeks. That’s going to be a little awkward for a while, but the sooner we get over it the better. On a related subject, Rufus wasn’t joking when he said he wanted you guarded twenty-four hours a day. His original plan was to have two or three Aurors on rotation. They’d sit outside your bedroom door when you slept or outside the bathroom door when you shower. Unfortunately, as you pointed out, Dumbledore would never go for that. Your solution of having just me solves the Dumbledore problem but means that I have to be awake when you’re awake, so I have to sleep when you sleep, and hence be in the room so I can wake up if anything happens. That’s fine, and I can stand outside the bathroom when you shower, or outside the bedroom when you dress... but what about when _I_ shower, and what about when _I’m_ dressing? You can’t stand outside the room – you’d be unprotected.”

Harry’s capricious knob stirred at the idea of Tonks undressing while he was in the room.

“I could turn my back while you dress,” Harry offered.

Tonks raised an eyebrow.

“What? I wouldn’t peek!” Harry insisted. “ _Unlike some,_ ” he muttered under his breath.

Tonks snorted, “Yeah right – like I’d trust a horny teenage boy to not look!”

“ _I am not horny!_ ” Harry objected.

Tonks gaze dropped to his crotch area, “Really? So what’s that tent growing in your trousers?”

Harry flushed in mortification. He grabbed a pillow and shoved it over his traitorous semi. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, couldn’t you take your clothes to the bathroom and dress in there? I could wait in here and not open the door to anyone. We could do the same when you shower.”

“Yeah, we could do that,” Tonks admitted. “And that’s exactly how we’ll handle visits to the loo, because I’m sure neither one of us wants the other in the room while we take a dump. But I wouldn’t be comfortable leaving you on your own for half an hour while I shower – it would be a serious blot on my record if you got bumped off while I was washing my hair. And nor can I spend the next several months taking two-minute showers. There are certain necessities a woman needs to attend to.”

“There are?” Harry asked, bewildered.

“Yes there are,” Tonks replied firmly, “and that’s all you need to know about that.”

Harry’s mouth snapped shut. Tonks’ expression made it clear that any more questions would be unwelcome.

“However you look at it,” Tonks continued, “these little privacy issues are going to be awkward, inconvenient... and potentially compromise your safety.”

“Well, yeah, but there’s nothing we can do about that is there?” replied Harry.

Tonks gave him a pointed look, “Well, we could tip-toe around it like a couple of _ickle childwen_... or we can man-up and tackle it head-on like adults who are fighting in a war.”

“Okay...” Harry replied uncertainly. He definitely didn’t want her to think he was a little child, and she was right – this was a war situation. “What do you have in mind?”

“Have you heard of _Immersion Therapy?_ ” she asked.

Harry shook his head, “No.”

“Good. That’ll make this easier. Grab your towel and follow me. I’ll show you how it works.”

Tonks grabbed her towels (apparently, despite being smaller than boys, girls need twice as many towels) and led him down the corridor. Puzzled, Harry followed in her wake. Was she going to immerse him in a cold bath or something?

Tonks opened the bathroom door, “In you go.”

She followed him in, then locked the door and cast a silencing charm on it.

“Won’t someone wonder what we’re doing in the bathroom together?” Harry asked nervously.

Tonks shook her head, “No, we’re the only ones who use this bathroom. Nobody’s going to notice. Grab a seat Harry.”

There was a wooden stool, so Harry sat on it with his towel in his lap.

“Okay, I’m going to explain how this works. I read about it in a muggle psychology book. I used to have a phobia you see – an irrational fear of something that I just couldn’t shake. I wanted to get to the point where exposure to that thing wouldn’t affect me anymore. And no, I’m not going to tell you what it was, so don’t ask. Anyway, I read about Immersion Therapy and began exposing myself to my fear for measured comfortable periods, which I steadily increased over time. Eventually it became so ordinary and commonplace that I stopped fearing it at all. You understand?”

Harry nodded.

“Ok good. So we have a similar situation here. You and I have to live in each other’s pockets for a while, but we feel awkward and embarrassed about it. We need to desensitise ourselves by completely immersing into the thing we fear. I’ll go first.”

With that, she started to undress.

Harry’s eyes immediately bugged out of his head and he turned to face away.

Tonks laughed, “Harry, the whole point of this is that we have to get used to seeing each other – undressing, naked, whatever.”

Tonks was wearing long-black witch’s robes, like an overcoat, with a grey muggle sweatshirt, burgundy t-shirt, black jeans and knee-length black leather boots. She removed the robes and held them out to him.

“Hang these up for me, would you.”

Harry hesitated for a second, uncertain quite how to deal with the fact that he now had a massive hard-on. In the end, he held his towel over his crotch while he stood up, and took her robes with the other hand.

Tonks’ tinkling laugh filled the room, “Harry, you don’t have to cover yourself up. I know you’re going to get an erection. You’re a teenage boy seeing a woman undress – it’s inevitable. But this is immersion therapy – you have to throw yourself into it.”

Harry considered her advice... but he just couldn’t do it, so he hung her robes and sat back down with his towel in his lap. Tonks shook her head in amusement and started unlacing her boots.

Harry’s brain was totally shirt-circuiting itself. His heart was thumping in his chest so hard he was surprised it hadn’t leapt free and bounced across the floor. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Tonks was undressing in front of him like it was the most normal thing in the world!

To Harry, it was the most terrifying moment of his entire life. Not because he was about to see a girl naked, but because he was _absolutely convinced_ with one hundred percent certainty that something truly mortifying was going happen to prevent it. Good things _never_ happened to Harry Potter, and seeing Tonks naked would _definitely_ be a good thing. Harry desperately tried to suppress his excitement, because that would only make the disappointment greater when he was denied.

Tonks sat on the edge of the bath. She pulled off one boot, then the other. There were black socks underneath, which she also removed. Harry’s heart missed a beat when he saw that her toenails were silvery-blue like her hair, matching the nails on her hands. For some reason, he found the sight of her bare feet enormously sexy – like she was sharing something she normally kept private.

Now that he thought about it, Tonks tended to keep herself pretty well covered up. Apart from her cleavage which was often on display. Not that he’d been looking, of course.

Tonks stood up again to unzip her sweatshirt, and then shrugged it off. The t-shirt underneath was very fitted and exposed the wonderful curving shape of her recently-enhanced figure. Harry’s mouth went as dry as the desert, and the bulge in his trousers pushed painfully against the material. It was angled downwards, which was becoming extremely uncomfortable, but he didn’t dare adjust himself with Tonks watching him. He just hoped it wouldn’t snap off when she removed the next item of clothing - she was down to her top and trousers, so the next thing to come off would expose a significant amount of bare flesh.

Harry wasn’t sure which he wanted her to remove next – her top or her trousers. Either way, he was sure his frantically beating heart was about to explode, killing him instantly and denying him the experience. He could feel Tonks’ eyes on him, but his eyes were trained entirely on her delicate fingers as she started to unbutton her trousers. Trousers! She’d chosen trousers! Harry stopped breathing entirely.

One button... two buttons... Oh God he could see some of her pale smooth stomach! Three buttons... the top of something lacy and light blue could just be seen! The fourth and last button... he could definitely see a triangle of lacy knickers now!

Harry was momentarily surprised that Tonks was wearing lacy underwear. Given her ‘tough girl’ outer clothes, he’d have expected something plain and functional. But no, it was sexy and decidedly feminine. Did that mean she was secretly a lot more girly than she let on?

Tonks hooked her thumbs into the waist of her jeans and started to wiggle her hips to pull them down. Surely this was it – the moment when something would happen to deny Harry this pleasure? Mrs Weasley would burst in, or Death Eaters would attack, or a meteor would destroy the planet...

But no, against all odds the jeans were inching lower and nothing seemed to be stopping them.

Of course! Harry realised what was going on now! Tonks was just messing with him. Having given him the hardest erection he’d ever had, she was about to pull her jeans back up and laugh in his face. God, how did he not see this coming? He was such an idiot! The cruelty of it was almost too much. His heart dropped into his stomach.

But his eyes never strayed from the little triangle of blue knickers he could see peeking out of her jeans. He may was well savour every moment of this before the humiliation began.

Unbelievably, Tonks didn’t stop yet. Her jeans inched lower and her hip bones came into view, along with more of her knickers. Harry had never seen anything so sexy. The curve of her hips, the smooth white skin in the crease where her legs met her body... And suddenly, the jeans cleared her hips and dropped to her knees. Harry could see her knickers in all their beautiful lacy glory, along with the toned slim shape of her thighs. The front of her knickers was so lacy it was almost transparent, and Harry could see the hairless mound underneath.

Tonks was right – it wasn’t how he’d imagine it. It was so much sexier. There was something indescribably sensuous about the shape of her. This was the image he’d have in his head every time he showered for the rest of his life.

Tonks lifted a leg, pulled the jeans over her foot, then lifted the other and the jeans came free. She stood up straight and threw them at him. His seeker skills just about saved him from a face full of jeans, and he hung them absently on the door behind him without even looking.

For the first time in his life, Harry was seeing a girl in her knickers, and it was glorious. Harry didn’t care if she stopped now. This image was totally worth it. He wouldn’t even feel humiliated, he’d feel elated.

His focus was entirely on her knickers and legs, savouring every sexy detail, but then he saw her arms moving in his peripheral vision. She’d grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt and was pulling it up. Her navel was the first thing to appear, which Harry noted was pierced with some sort of stud. Next came the concave curve of her stomach, and finally a light blue lacy bra that matched her knickers.

Harry couldn’t believe his luck! If Tonks thought he was going to be embarrassed and humiliated when she ended this, she was sorely mistaken! The t-shirt was quickly stretched over her head and thrown in his direction. He hung it behind him without taking his eyes off her.

Harry revised his earlier opinion. _This_ was the image he’d be thinking of in the shower for the rest of his life. Tonks’ body was absolutely breathtaking. She posed with her hands on her hips and one leg slightly bent in front of the other. It was as sexy as hell. Tonks smiled at him, held her arms out to the sides and did a slow twirl.

“What do you think, Harry? I assume I’m the first girl you’ve seen in her underwear?”

Harry nodded without even thinking about how embarrassing an admission that was.

“Is it everything you were hoping for?”

Harry nodded stupidly. His mouth spoke his thoughts before he could stop it, “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Tonks tittered, “Why thank you Harry, you’re very kind. I think you deserve a reward for being so sweet.”

Before Harry had even registered what she was doing, she’d reached behind and unhooked her bra. It fell loose as she brought her arms forward. Harry’s heart leapt at what he might be about to see, and then the bra was flying towards him. Harry’s hand snatched it from the air purely by instinct. His brain had shut down completely. The only thought in his head was that he was looking at the most spectacular pair of breasts he would ever see. They were perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Tonks posed again – with her hands on her hips and one leg bent, then turned from side to side. Her breasts were very like the one he’d seen by accident, but now firmer, and more pert. The shape of them was truly exquisite, and they bounced slightly as she turned. Her areolas were a medium pink, maybe four centimetres across, and her nipples stood firm and proud in the middle. She must be cold, Harry thought idly, but those nipples were begging to be kissed... or licked... or nibbled... or sucked...

“What do you think, Harry? Marks out of ten?”

Harry had abandoned any hope of filtering his mouth, “About a thousand. You look amazing.”

“Harry, you smooth-talking devil!” she tittered. “Now then, it seems to me that one of us is rather overdressed for the shower. I think I should remedy that.”

To Harry’s alarm Tonks walked over and pulled him up off the stool. He stood, holding the towel to his crotch with both hands. Tonks ignored that. She unzipped his hoodie and pulled it down each arm in turn, then hung it on the door. Harry made no effort to resist. His mind was fully occupied watching her breasts bounce as she moved, and the beautiful curves of her mound.

Tonks slipped her hands under his t-shirt, which made him breathe in sharply. Her hands were cool and amazingly soft against his skin. She ran them slowly up his sides, sending shivers down his spine, and pushed his arms up above his head to lift the t-shirt off.

Harry’s attention was acutely divided between the delicate electricity of her touch and the exquisite beauty of her breasts right in front of his face. They lifted up as she raised her arms above her head, and bounced delightfully as she lowered her arms again.

Harry hadn’t really been registering what Tonks was up to next, he was so mesmerised by her bare chest, but once she removed the towel from his grasp his mind snapped straight back into focus. He froze in alarm as Tonks knelt down in front of him and pulled his jeans down to his ankles. His massively erect penis was making a tent out of his boxers right beside her face. In numb horror he allowed her to pull his trousers and socks off, hoping she wouldn’t notice the bulge in front of her.

Very slowly her eyes rose to meet his, “What do you say, Harry? Would you like to see the rest of me?”

He was a teenage boy and she was kneeling in front of him topless, looking up at him through her eyelashes. What did she expect him to say? Harry nodded vigorously, hardly believing this was happening. His penis pulsed in agreement.

Tonks grinned, “I’m glad. I love the fact that you find me attractive, Harry. It’s nice to be desired. You know, people often ask me what I really look like. They don’t understand that the way I look is mostly subconscious. My emotions and my body are tied together, you see. My look reflects my mood. People who saw me yesterday will think that’s the _real_ me because I was less attractive. They assume that I’m really quite plain, and that I usually make myself _more_ attractive to fool people. That’s not how it is for me. I was less attractive yesterday because I was unhappy. I _felt_ less attractive so I _became_ less attractive. How I am right now, this is as much the _real_ _me_ as that was. This is how I look when I’m happy, and I have you to thank for that, Harry. You made me feel wanted. You were kind to me, which is something I really needed. Thank you for that, Harry.”

She smiled up at him uncertainly, and it melted his heart.

“Now, I’ve been going first so far,” she continued, “but I think it’s your turn to go first now. We need to be fair, after all. It’s my turn to admire _you_ , I think.”

With that, she hooked her fingers into the top of his boxer shorts and before he could even register what was happening, she pulled them over his painfully pulsing erection and down to the floor. Harry froze in dread. He wasn’t sure what he expected her to do or say, but he was inexplicably terrified. He desperately wanted run away, but his legs wouldn’t obey his instructions – he was frozen like a deer in headlights.

Tonks just stared at the throbbing penis in front of her face and licked her lips, “Mmmm... Now that is a gorgeous sight. You have a beautiful cock Harry. It’s the perfect size too – long but not too long... thick but not too thick, which is just as important... and perfectly straight with a slight upward curve. Some girl is going to be very happy indeed to have that inside her.”

Tonks rose to stand in front of him, “Well done, Harry. You’re doing great. I think there are only three things left to do. First, we need to hug, because I think we both deserve it. Second, I’m going to kiss you on the lips, because seeing each other naked without kissing would be rude. And third, since I removed your boxers, it’s only fair that you remove my knickers. Hufflepuffs are big believers in fairness...”

Harry was completely frozen in shock. He knew his mouth was hanging open like an idiot but there was nothing he could do about it. His brain had blown another fuse.

Tonks giggled, “If you like how that sounds... stand there looking gormless. Yeah just like that.”

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	8. My Bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More smut ahead!

Harry was abruptly very aware that he was completely naked. He was made even more aware of that when Tonks stepped forward and put her arms round his neck. In that moment, Harry reckoned there was no force on earth that could have stopped him from wrapping his arms round her waist and pulling her to him. His hands floated across the soft skin of her back as their chests pressed firmly together, and a low moan escaped his lips. Just as he’d imagined it, their nipples met perfectly. The silky soft skin of her breasts caressed his lightly haired chest in the most delicious way, but when their nipples touched it was as though fireworks had gone off in his head, sending tiny electric shocks through his body.

Tonks relaxed into his arms with a sigh of pleasure, “Oh that feels good!”

Harry’s cock was squeezed between them, pressed firmly against her stomach, and the sound of her pleasure almost tipped him over the edge. With a supreme effort of will he forced himself to relax. As Tonks had taught him earlier in the day, he focused on his breathing for a moment. Once he was confident he wasn’t going to ejaculate all over her, he focused again on how amazing this felt, and how wonderfully their nipples played together.

Tonks leant back so she could look into his eyes, “Thanks, Harry. You give the best hugs. I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

Harry nodded mutely. His experience of kissing hadn’t been that great, so he wasn’t sure what all the fuss was about – the only girl he’d kissed was Cho Chang and that had been a soggy disaster. Tonks put her hands on the sides of his face and slowly leaned forwards, her eyes gazing brightly into his.

For the first time since he’d known her, Harry really looked into her eyes. They were silvery blue right now, but more importantly he saw a gentle and generous soul – someone who _gave_ far more than she _took_ , a true Hufflepuff. What shocked him was that he saw fear bordering on terror lurking there. She’d seemed so confident and self-assured, but now he realised that she wasn’t at all. What she’d done just now had left her intensely vulnerable and exposed – both physically and emotionally.

It wasn’t confidence he’d been witnessing, it was tremendous _bravery_. He’d thought this meant nothing to her... that she was so at home in her own body that undressing in front of him was no big deal. If anything, he now realised it was quite the opposite. She was deeply self-conscious, because her emotions were literally displayed for the whole world to see. In fact, how she looked was mostly to do with how _others_ made her feel about herself, and Harry had the strong suspicion that people rarely made her feel good.

Tonks had done what she’d done just now because she felt it was necessary, but also because she’d been happy today, and she wanted to feel more of that. She wanted someone to see her when she was happy, because she was a fundamentally happy person and this is how she would be... if only the world would stop beating her down.

When their lips finally touched all further analysis fled from his mind. It was as if the whole world receded into the distance. His universe was reduced to his body and Tonks’ body, holding each other... their two souls joined in a kiss. Her lips felt soft and cool, like satin, caressing his as their mouths opened and closed in a tender dance. Harry was overcome with a profound feeling of affection towards Tonks. She was a truly wonderful person, and she deserved so much more than the world gave her.

Harry was suddenly consumed by a fierce determination to make Tonks realise how wonderful she was. She clearly had no idea. His mind filled with all the emotions he’d felt since she arrived – his elation at every wonderful moment, and the gratitude he felt for everything she was doing for him. But above all, he felt an overwhelming appreciation for the grace and bravery she’d displayed in the last few minutes. The amount of trust she’d placed in him was truly awe-inspiring. She’d put herself entirely on the line, and Harry was humbled by her courage.

So he poured all of that emotion – every intense bit of it – into the kiss, _willing her_ to feel what he felt. He put everything he had into it – _everything_ , because she deserved no less.

Tonks had implied that the kiss was just for propriety’s sake, because it would be wrong to see each other naked and not kiss, but an involuntary moan escaped her lips and she deepened the kiss into something more primal. Her hands pulled his head more firmly toward her and her leg rose to circle behind his. Harry had almost forgotten he was naked until her hand grabbed him firmly on the ass and pressed his cock harder against her stomach. She groaned loudly and pushed her underwear-covered crotch firmly against his thigh.

Harry had the strong suspicion that Tonks was, underneath her chirpy persona and apparent reserve, a very passionate person. She had clearly been lonely recently – craving comfort which Harry inadvertently provided. Did their naked hugging tip her over the edge? Harry had no idea, but her ardour was quickly unravelling his own resolve. Of their own accord, his hands started to wander over her back as their nipples danced their distracting waltz. Harry was acutely aware of Tonks’ hand on his bum. Nobody had ever touched him there. It felt wonderful and incredibly intimate. Tonks’ hand was marvellously soft, and he fervently hoped she would keep it there forever.

Inevitably... despite his very best intentions... his fingers continued circling down her back until they reached her waist. He tried to stop there, he really did, but his hand had other ideas. It slipped lower and caressed the knickers over Tonks’s bum.

Tonks melted in his arms... and then she attacked him like a wild animal.

Harry was dimly aware that the kiss had developed into something more dangerous, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care whether it was appropriate, or right, or sensible. It felt _incredible_ and that’s all that mattered. Tonks was such a special person. Her body felt amazing entwined with his and their lips played so wonderful together... How could he pull away from that?

His mind swirled with admiration for who Tonks was and what she’d achieved – no Auror candidate had been accepted since she was, four years ago! His body ached with desire... not just for the hot body she currently had, but for the kind-hearted and caring soul that lay beneath. So Harry returned her passion in equal measure, striving to communicate his feelings through his lips to hers.

Tonks’ ardour exploded. She dug her nails savagely into his butt cheek, and thrust her crotch firmly into his thigh. Her lips opened wide and her tongue plunged deep into his mouth. Harry responded entirely by instinct – his hand squeezed her arse and pushed her crotch even harder into his leg.

Tonks threw her head back and gasped with surprise and delight. Seizing his opportunity, Harry’s other hand grabbed her breast and cupped it gently. Tonks yanked him by the hair and smashed their lips back together, kissing him in desperation and crushing his hand against her chest. Her breathing became ragged. Harry’s traitorous free hand slid inside the waistband of her knickers and cupped her bare butt. It felt glorious!

Tonks went wild, grinding her crotch against him and moaning with every breath.

Harry started squeezing her bum and her breast in rhythm with her breathing, his tongue fencing with hers inside his mouth.

Tonks immediately threw back her head and began panting heavily: “Huh... Huh... Huh... Huh... Huh... Huh...”

Harry’s lips found her collar bone and he kissed his way up to her neck.

A small squeal escaped her: “Heee.” Then another: “Heee.”

Tonks’ crotch felt suddenly red hot against his thigh, triggering a ravenous frenzy in Harry. His hand squeezed and massaged her bum, while ramming her groin into his leg over and over. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing – some base instinct had stripped him of control and taken over his body.

Soon every breath Tonks took was a squeal, “Heee, heee, heee, heee, heee...”

Abruptly her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth fell open. She began calling out breathlessly, “Oh God... Oh God... Oh God...”

Faster and faster she wheezed, “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. OhGod. OhGod. OhGod...”

And then she completely lost control, writhing wildly in his arms, “OhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOhGodOh...”

For the briefest moment she froze, and a strangled squeak escaped her...

Then a throaty gurgle burst free, as if she were in pain, “AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!”

Tonks went suddenly rigid, crushing Harry in her arms with her head back, her mouth open and her eyes squeezed shut in a long rapturous cry... and then she shuddered violently, her whole body wracked with violent spasms.

She released a long juddering moan, “Ooooooohohohohohohoho...”

And then another: “Ooooooohohohohohohoho...”

For one long minute she trembled helplessly in Harry’s arms.

The shaking gradually died away, but she clung to Harry like a limpet, shivering and whimpering pitifully.

Harry just held her, not really knowing what was going on. One hand was still on her breast, caressing it softly. The other was still stroking her bum inside her knickers and holding her up – her legs seemed to have gone a bit wobbly.

“Are you okay, Tonks?” he asked eventually.

“Um... Um yeah...” she said breathlessly. “Just... Just give me a minute...”

When it seemed like she was coming back to herself, Harry asked, “What happened there, Tonks?”

“What happened? What... Oh! Oh crikey! Erm, right... Sorry Harry, I forgot you were a vir... Well, anyway... That was me having an orgasm.... a very intense orgasm. Sorry about that. I... I don’t know what came over me...”

 _I almost did_ , Harry thought, but he remained silent.

Tonks took a few deep breaths, “I don’t understand. It was meant to be just a kiss, you know – a friendly kiss? But then... suddenly I was feeling all these _emotions_... and I was overcome with affection, and gratitude, and desire... and oh! OH!”

Tonks stared at him, suddenly wide-eyed, “Harry, what were you thinking about when you kissed me?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably, “Um... well... I was thinking about _you_ , obviously, and how wonderful you are...”

Tonks was delighted, “I knew it! Your _Occlumency_ training is enhancing your natural _Legilimency_! You were unwittingly projecting your emotions, and because I was so close... kissing you... I felt them.”

She seemed very confident of her theory, but Harry dismissed it immediately. There was no way he’d done that. He might have been trying to do that, but he wasn’t some master _Legilimens_. He was just Harry – a mediocre student of no particular note. He might have above-average magical strength, and decent reflexes, but he certainly didn’t have any special abilities.

Tonks blushed and looked down, unable to look him in the eye. “Um... if you _really_ feel that way about me Harry, then... well, _thank you_. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I think you’re pretty special too. But that’s one hell of a kiss you’ve got there! You need to be careful kissing girls like that – it was pretty overwhelming. I felt like I was drunk and _confunded_ at the same time. And then of course there’s your sexy bod... Well... I mean a girl can only resist so much...”

She smacked him playfully on the arm, “I can’t believe you made me lose control like that. I’m so embarrassed!”

Harry grinned. She looked really cute when she was embarrassed... especially when she was embarrassed and _almost naked_.

Much to Harry’s disappointment, Tonks slowly untangled herself from his body and stepped back.

“Erm, sorry to leave you hanging Harry,” she said, pointing at his raging hard-on, “but I’m not sure how I feel about finishing off a fifteen year old. I know that’s a bit rich considering what just happened, but well... that was an accident.”

Harry shrugged, “That’s okay Tonks. I don’t mind.”

Harry had just had the most amazing experience of his life. He didn’t mind at all.

Tonks groaned, “Oh God, Harry. Why do you have to be so damned sweet? If you were seventeen I’d be all over you, but fifteen... I mean... I just couldn’t. Maybe if you were _sixteen_... Witches and Wizards can have sex at sixteen with their guardian’s permission, and I reckon Sirius would definitely have given you permission, so that would be okay, I suppose... but _fifteen_...”

Harry grinned cheekily, “Well, I’ll be sixteen in a two weeks’ time.”

Tonks beamed right back at him, “Is that so? Well then, I think I know what to give you for your birthday.”

She winked.

Tonks was joking of course. Harry knew that. But still, his cock pulsed at the thought.

“Let’s get cleaned up shall we?” Tonks continued. “I suspect you could use a cold shower. Cryotherapy I think the muggles call that – very good for reducing tension and... swelling. Now, erm... removing my knickers is going to be a bit more embarrassing than I’d envisaged, but hey ho, a deal is a deal. Whip ‘em off Harry.”

 _Was she serious?_ Apparently she was, and Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He knelt down in front of her, as she had done with him, and hooked his fingers into the sides of her underwear. He looked up at her face, and she smiled down at him encouragingly. His eyes returned to her waist and he began very slowly pulling her knickers down.

He wanted to savour every second of this. Inch by inch, the lacy knickers slid down, to reveal more and more of her milky white skin. Harry marvelled at the beautiful curve of her mound, and the way it merged gorgeously with her slim and muscular thighs. He pushed her knickers down to her thighs and her pussy was revealed in all its exotic glory. As he’d seen through the lace, her pussy was completely hairless. It was exquisite – the shape, the curves, and the two rippled folds of skin he could see peeking out from between her legs... it was like an erotic work of art.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

Tonks stroked his head tenderly, “Thank you, Harry, you wonderful man.”

Harry lowered her knickers further, and noticed that they were sopping wet. A colourless sticky liquid was leaking out of her folds and running down her leg.

He looked up to find Tonks blushing, “That’s how much you turned me on Harry. I’ve never been so wet in my entire life.”

Harry had no idea what she was talking about, but he felt the powerful urge to devour her pussy with his mouth and taste her juices. He resisted the temptation. He wasn’t sure how she’d react and he didn’t want to spoil this amazing experience. Tonks stepped out of her knickers and pulled Harry to his feet.

She kissed him on the cheek, “I’ll shower first – won’t be long.”

Tonks stepped into the bath and pulled the curtain closed. Harry resumed his seat on the stool, and listened to the sound of Tonks humming happily in the shower. The alluring smell of her cinnamon body wash slowly filled the room.

After ten minutes, Tonks poked her head out, “Could you scrub my back Harry? I can never quite reach.”

Harry walked over, took the soapy sponge from her hand, and climbed into the shower behind her. He gently rubbed the sponge in small circles all over the smooth and flawless skin of her back. Once he was done, she turned to face him so she could rinse the soap off. Her breasts looked amazing – glistening with droplets of water and bubbles of soap. Harry’s eyes followed the sensuous curves of her body down to her slim hips, soapy mound and toned legs. Harry had been so wrong earlier – _this_ was the image he’d have in his head whenever he showered.

“Thanks Harry.” Tonks gave him another kiss on the cheek and stepped out, “Your turn. Take your time. I’ll wait for you.”

Harry turned the temperature right down – he was definitely in need of a cold shower or his erection would never go down. Harry wondered if he would ever have another hot shower again. He felt so hard he was sure he could use his cock to hammer nails. Unfortunately, try as he might, he just couldn’t get it to go down. With a heavy sigh he gave up, and scrubbed himself thoroughly with Tonks’ refreshing body wash. He considered ‘knocking one out’, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it with Tonks in the room, even if she _was_ behind the curtain.

When he poked his head out, Tonks had a towel wrapped round her body and another wrapped around her head. She held out his towel, so he grabbed it and retreated back behind the shower curtain. Once he’d dried off he wrapped it tightly round his waist in an effort to conceal his enormous boner. Sadly the massive bulge in his towel just drew attention to what was underneath. With another heavy sigh, Harry drew back the curtain and clambered out.

Tonks unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out into the corridor, beckoning Harry to follow.

Unfortunately, at the exact moment that Harry stepped out in to the hallway, someone descending silently down the stairs came into view. Hermione stopped in her tracks and stared open-mouthed at Harry and Tonks in towels outside the bathroom door.

“Wotcha Hermione!” said Tonks brightly, “Harry was just scrubbing my back.”

“ _Tonks!_ ” Harry hissed, blushing furiously.

Hermione’s wide eyes travelled down his body and settled on the very obvious bulge in his towel.

Harry bolted, scurrying down the hall and into the bedroom as fast as he could. Tonks followed, chuckling merrily. Once inside, she locked and silenced the door. Harry sat down on his bed and put his head in his hands. Oh God, what must Hermione think?

Tonks dropped both her towels on the floor and beamed at Harry, “Now we can change in front of each other without feeling the slightest bit awkward. Yay!”

Harry lifted his eyes and stared at her fabulously nude body, “Um, yeah. Not awkward at all.”

Tonks glanced down at the tented towel in his lap, “Okay, well... things might not have gone entirely to plan, which was my bad, but it’s a start. Now come on Harry, relax! Drop the towel.”

Harry snorted. Admittedly, after what they’d just done his embarrassment made very little sense.

“What the hell,” he replied. He threw his towel on the bed and moved to his trunk to pick out some clothes, trying very hard to ignore his massive erection.

“That’s the spirit Harry!” Tonks declared cheerfully. “It’s all part of our Immersion Therapy. Also, you have a gorgeous cock and I enjoy looking at it. Everyone’s a winner!”

Tonks bent over and started fishing in her bag for some fresh knickers.

Harry stared at her bare arse, fully appreciating the fact that he could clearly see her pussy peaking between her legs.

“Yep,” he muttered in a daze, “everyone’s a winner.”

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By my calculations, only 10% of the people who are faithfully reading every chapter of this story have hit the Kudos button...
> 
> It only takes a second, and I'd greatly appreciate it. Thank you!


	9. Full English Hottie

As Harry and Tonks emerged from their room for dinner, Harry heard whispered voices from the floor above. He tapped Tonks on the shoulder and put his finger to his lips, then listened in.

Ginny was speaking, “No way! I’m not buying it. They had me going for a while there, but they’ve overplayed their hand. It’s definitely a prank, there’s no way they’re showering together.”

Ron agreed, “Yeah, this is Harry we’re talking about. He’s completely clueless. I don’t think he even knows what boobs are.”

Ginny snorted, “Oh, like _you_ _do_?”

“Well I’ve seen yours haven’t I?” Ron replied nastily. “Tiny things they are, like two little bee stings.”

“Fuck you Ron, you pervert! Anyway _you_ can talk with that toothpick you call a knob.”

Hermione hissed, “Stop it, both of you! Of course you’re right. I can’t believe I fell for that! ‘Harry was scrubbing my back’ indeed! _Honestly!_ They must think we’re stupid. And that bulge in his towel! He’d clearly stuffed a couple of socks down there!”

Harry wasn’t sure if he should feel complemented or insulted. Behind him Tonks stifled a snigger, which tipped the balance in favour of insulted. He clomped noisily down the stairs, triggering an abrupt silence on the landing above.

After dinner, Mr Weasley took Harry and Tonks to one side. He confirmed that it was fine for them to share a room as long as there were no ‘shenanigans’. Harry and Tonks were happy to promise that there wouldn’t be, though they later confirmed with each other that neither one of them knew what shenanigans were. Harry thought it might be some sort of Irish folk dance, but Tonks was sure it was a musical instrument a bit like a ukulele. Either way, there definitely would be any of those, so all was well. They retired to their room quite early, explaining that they had to continue their ‘private lessons’. Hermione huffed and looked away in annoyance.

Tonks began Harry’s next lesson by explaining the theory of defensive _Occulmency_.

“There are two ways you can go when it comes to defending your thoughts. You can either block someone’s entry into your mind completely, or select what memories they see. The first one is easier to learn, but success will depend on you being stronger in the mind arts than your attacker. The second one is much harder to learn, but relies on fooling your attacker rather than being stronger than them.”

“Since you’re magically very strong, and you can throw off the _imperius_ , I reckon the first approach would protect you from most people. The only exceptions might be Dumbledore and Voldemort, but I doubt Dumbledore would ever attack you with _Legilimency_ , so it’s only Voldemort we have to worry about. According to Snape, Voldemort is the most powerful _Legilimens_ there is, so that’s an issue. For Voldemort you’d probably need the second method. That’s how Snape manages to fool him.”

Harry mulled it over, “I’m actually not that worried about Voldemort. I have a special weapon against him – if he invades my mind I just project the love I feel for my parents and Sirius at him. It causes him intense pain, for some reason. I did it in the Ministry foyer and I’m pretty sure he’s not going to want to repeat that experience. Even Dumbledore seems to agree, since he’s gone quiet about me having _Occlumency_ lessons. I’m more worried about Snape, Dumbledore and others picking up random thoughts. So let’s go with the easier option for now and come back to the harder one later.”

Tonks nodded, “Okay, good. That simplifies things enormously. So the secret to blocking someone from your mind completely is _visualisation_. That’s what Snape was talking about when he said ‘repel me with your mind’. He meant that you should visualise pushing him away. You’ve actually been doing it already, but you didn’t realise it – in our three test runs you threw me out every time, but it was only in the third test that you could see how you did it. You visualised yourself casting a spell at me with an imaginary wand. The spell you chose was _protego_ , which should have just blocked me, but you overpowered it, like you do with most of your spells, and ended up blocking me, disarming me and seeing into my mind instead. With that sort of power you’ll have no trouble blocking your mind from intruders.”

“The breathing exercise we’ve been doing to clear your mind is the foundation for your block, because it allows you to _feel_ the intruder. Among all the noise and chaos of everyday thought, you might not notice an unexpected intruder until they’re already in. Clearing your mind removes the noise so you can learn to sense them _before_ they get inside. We’ll practice that in a minute. First, I’ll give you a few moments to get to that calm space, then I’ll cast Legilimens and you should feel me intrude upon your mind. When you do, visualise yourself giving me a gentle push. That’s step one. Once you can feel me coming...”

Harry smirked and Tonks blushed furiously.

“I _mean_ , once you can feel my _presence_ , you git, you can push me out. Then we’ll work on step two which is developing an instinctive block to anything that feels like an intrusion.”

It was quite a gruelling couple of hours, but by the end of it Harry could feel Tonks coming (as he insisted on phrasing it) and was able to gently push her out.

He was absolutely jubilant, “You’re really good at teaching this Tonks. I can’t believe how much I’ve learned already.”

Tonks shrugged, “You are making really good progress. In Auror training it took most people three weeks to achieve what you’ve done in six hours. Of course we were only doing an hour a day, but still... you’re definitely going way faster. Like I said, I think you have a natural aptitude for it. If Snape couldn’t teach _you_ then he basically can’t teach _anyone_. You’re the easiest student ever.”

Harry grinned, “Did you just say I’m easy? That’s a bit harsh. I was led astray by an older woman.”

Tonks slapped him across the shoulder, “Watch it, Potter! Get your mind out of the gutter. Now let’s get ready for bed. Do your breathing exercise as you fall asleep – it’s good practice and your subconscious will keep working on it during the night.”

They each brushed their teeth at the sink in the corner of the room, and then changed into their night clothes. Harry watched Tonks undress. God she was gorgeous. He was pretty sure he’d never grow tired of seeing her naked. She tutted at him and rolled her eyes, but he spotted her checking him out as he changed too. Harry climbed into bed with yet another erection, and was fairly certain he wouldn’t sleep a wink.

In the darkness, he said quietly, “Thanks for everything you did for me today, Tonks. This has honestly been the best day of my life.”

Tonks chuckled, “You’re welcome. I had a great day too. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy. Good night, Harry. Don’t forget your breathing exercises.”

Harry yawned, “Okay, ‘night Tonks.”

Harry knew his erection was going to keep him awake all night... but he may as well do something, so he did his breathing exercises. Ten minutes later, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

\- § -

Harry woke to the sound of Tonks whispering angrily to herself, “Come on, don’t do this to me! Come on... _Oh crap!_ ”

Harry put on his glasses and peered over at Tonks’ side of the room. She was sitting at a dressing table, huffing at herself in the mirror. Harry wondered where the dressing table had come from. Had she conjured it?

“Something wrong, Tonks?”

Tonks’ shoulders slumped, “Er, well... it depends on how you look at it, I suppose. I’ll just show you.”

She walked over to the window and pulled open the curtains. Light flooded the room and Harry shielded his eyes. When they’d adapted to the brightness he saw Tonks glowering at him. Or at least he _thought_ it was Tonks. She seemed to have become considerably younger during the night. Harry would put her age at about fifteen. She was like a de-aged version of the hot Tonks she’d been the night before. If anything, she looked even hotter. Her breasts were smaller but still large for her body, while her hips, waist, arms and legs were all slimmer. Her face had become a very pretty heart shape, while her hair had shortened to a bubble-gum pink pixie cut. Her pyjama trousers and top were literally hanging off her.

“Wow, you look amazing Tonks!”

“You _would_ say that you perv!” she replied in irritation. “I’ve become a teenage boy’s wet dream!”

“You didn’t do it on purpose?”

“Of course not! Being fifteen was bad enough the first time. My stupid subconscious has done this.”

“Can’t you change back, if you don’t like it?”

“Yeah, I can. Watch.” Tonks frowned in concentration, and then morphed into exactly how she’d been yesterday.

“There you go, problem solved.”

Tonks was gritting her teeth, “Yep, and as soon as I relax...” She visibly relaxed, and immediately morphed back into a teenage girl. She slumped down onto her bed, dejectedly.

“Ah,” said Harry.

“This is your fault, Potter!”

“What? How is it _my_ fault?”

“You gave me that leg-trembling orgasm, you git! Now my subconscious wants more and thinks this is how to get it!”

Harry grinned, “Well, I wouldn’t say no.”

Tonks leapt up and pointed a finger in his face, “Don’t even think about it! I will not be used as a sex toy by my own bloody subconscious! I’m an Auror and a grown woman for God’s sake!” She stomped over to the mirror. “Look at the state of me! I look like a god-damned Barbie doll.”

“Will it wear off, do you think?” Harry offered.

Tonks huffed, “I don’t know... maybe.”

“Okay, so... until then we’ll say you’re under orders to blend in as a teenager.”

“I suppose...” Tonks kicked her toe into the carpet and sulked.

Harry wondered how deep this transformation actually went. She was even pouting like a teenager.

Tonks slouched over to her wardrobe and started holding her clothes up against herself, “Oh great! None of my clothes fit any more.”

She hurled them onto the floor and screamed in frustration.

Harry decided it was time to make a tactical exit, “Okay, I’ll just go see if someone can lend you some...”

He practically ran from the room and bolted down the stairs. He skidded to a halt in the kitchen and feigned nonchalance.

“Hi Hermione. Hi Ginny. Hi Fleur.”

He mentally sized them up and decided that Fleur was the closest to Tonks’ current size.

“Um, Fleur would you mind popping up to see Tonks? She’s been ordered to blend in as someone nearer our age, and is a bit short on appropriate clothing.”

Fleur rose elegantly from her chair and floated towards the stairs, “Mais oui, I ‘ave plenty of clothes I can lend ‘er, but I don’t know eef she eez my size.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, “Thanks Fleur, you’re a life-saver.” He sank into a chair and breathed out heavily.

“Trouble in paradise?” smirked Ginny.

Harry rolled his eyes, “You could say that. She’s having trouble adjusting to her disguise. It might be worth preparing yourselves so you don’t blurt anything out. She might hex you into next week.”

Ginny and Hermione exchanged bemused looks, while Mrs Weasley served Harry a massive fried breakfast.

Fleur came back down, “Ginny, I sink per’aps we need your ‘elp. Eet is a bit of a challenge.”

They both headed back upstairs. Harry had a sinking feeling.

Half an hour later, Ginny stomped back down the stairs. She made eye contact with Hermione and mouthed silently, “ _OH MY GOD_ ”.

Fleur came next, with a broad smile. And last to arrive was... Harry’s vision of the perfect super-hot-teenage-girl-next-door.

Her pink and white converse trainers with pink socks came into view first, followed by a pair of long bare legs. A loose white thigh-length skirt with black and pink crossed stripes was matched with a pink v-neck sweater over a white button-down shirt. The whole ensemble screamed ‘innocent teenager’ while hinting at barely repressed sexuality. It was the sort of outfit a mother like Molly Weasley would be delighted to see her daughter in, completely unaware that every teenage boy was fantasising about bending her daughter over a table and shagging her senseless. Harry gawped in stunned incredulity. This was just about as far as you could possibly get from the image Tonks usually went for.

Tonks growled at him, “Don’t say a word! These are the only clothes that would fit.”

Mrs Weasley was beside herself, “Oh Tonks, you look wonderful! I never would have recognised you! Doesn’t Tonks look lovely Ginny?”

Ginny grimaced, “Yeah, super,” and added under her breath, “ _like a porn star librarian._ ” She leaned over to Hermione and whispered, “Better shower early if you want any hot water. Ron’s going to be in there for hours after he sees _that_.”

Hermione blanched.

Mrs Weasley was fawning all over Tonks, “Come and sit down dear. I knew you and Harry were good kids. I told Arthur you could be trusted. Now, what can I get you... a slice of melon, perhaps? Fleur loves a slice of melon for breakfast, don’t you dear? Or a fruit salad?”

“I’ll have the same as Harry please, Molly.”

“A Full English? Are you sure dear? You don’t want something a bit more...”

Tonks glared at her.

“A Full English then, yes of course – coming right up!”

Ginny elbowed Harry in the kidney.

“Oof! What was that for?” Harry complained.

Ginny feigned innocence, “You have something just there,” she indicated the corner of her mouth, “I think it’s a bit of drool.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “Very funny. I’m just impressed with Tonks’ disguise, that’s all.”

“Sure you are. You boys are all the same.”

Harry leaned over and whispered in Ginny’s ear, “This is nothing. Last night in bed, all she wore was a smile.”

Ginny choked on her pumpkin juice while Harry grinned evilly. Loud thumping could be heard from upstairs, and then something like a herd of elephants came storming down.

Ginny groaned, “Here we go...”

Ron came barrelling into view, and skidded to a halt at the sight of Tonks. “HOLY FU...”

“ _Ronald Bilius Weasley!_ ” shrieked Mrs Weasley, “Don’t you dare use that language in this house!”

Harry smirked and before anyone else could speak, he said, “Ron this is Nora. She’s taking over from Tonks for a few days.”

Ron plastered what he probably thought was a welcoming smile on his face, but it looked more like a lecherous leer, “Hello Nora, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Mind if I sit here?”

He took the seat next to her without waiting for a reply, and turned the chair to face her. This put his back to Hermione and effectively cut her off from everyone else at the table.

Hermione huffed and folded her arms, “Well _REALLY_!”

Ginny had been about to say something, but thought better of it.

Mrs Weasley looked confused, “Nora did you say?”

“Oh yes,” Harry butted in, “undercover name, you know. We should all use it.”

Tonks was about to say something when Ron leaned forward into her personal space and put his arm along the back of her chair.

“So Nora, you must be a trainee Auror, right? Just out of school? That would make you like... seventeen or something? I’m practically seventeen myself, actually... though people say I look younger. It must be all the fresh air I get from being on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Do you play Quidditch at all? My good friend Victor Krum was telling me only last year that I should try for the national team.”

Ginny choked on her pumpkin juice again. Hermione rose to slap her on the back, then took the seat next to her and glared daggers at Ron, who was entirely oblivious to it.

Further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of two owls carrying _Daily Prophets_ – Harry’s and Hermione’s. Harry untied his and scanned the stories. Right at the bottom of page two he found what he was looking for:

_SENIOR UNDERSECREATARY DOLORES UMBRIDGE SENTENCED TO AZKABAN_

_In a surprise move, the Ministry arrested and questioned Senior Undersecretary Delores Umbridge yesterday on suspicion of a number of crimes. While serving as High Inquisitor and Headmistress of Hogwarts last year, Ms Umbridge is accused of torturing children with an illegal blood quill and administering Veritaserum to minors without authorisation. She was also charged with the attempted murder of an unnamed wizard and a muggle during the summer of the previous year. Ms Umbridge was questioned using Veritaserum and immediately confessed to all these crimes, plus a number of others which were not disclosed, pending further investigation. Under emergency regulations passed by the Minister for Magic early yesterday, a confession under Veritaserum is now deemed grounds for a conviction. Ms Umbridge was therefore sentenced to ten years in Azkaban for each attempted murder, one year each for ten separate counts of torture using a blood quill, and five years for the unauthorised use of Veritaserum on minors. Her sentences will be served consecutively, for a total of thirty five years. A Ministry spokesperson said that the Ministry takes a very dim view of such heinous crimes, and Ministry employees should expect no special treatment if they break the law._

Harry smiled to himself. Ron was still desperately trying to chat up Tonks, who was ignoring him completely. Ginny had her fist in her mouth in an attempt to stop herself from laughing. Hermione had a face like a wet weekend, so Harry slid the paper in front of her and pointed at the article. Before she could say anything, Harry stood.

“T... I mean Nora, something has come up. Could we have a chat?”

Tonks almost leapt from her seat and followed Harry without a word.

Ron shouted after them, “Nice to meet you Nora. We’ll talk again later, yeah?” He leaned so far back to check out Tonks’ swaying bum that he nearly fell out of his chair. He quickly grabbed his plate and some toast and raced up the stairs, shouting over his shoulder, “Thanks Mum, I’ll eat this after my shower.”

Ginny cursed forcefully, “ _Dammit!_ ”

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	10. Harry Starts to Fight Back

Harry locked and silenced their bedroom door.

“Right Tonks, playtime’s over. Can you contact the Minister and arrange a meeting – just him and me, preferably right now?” Tonks nodded. “Great, thanks.” Harry had been thinking about what he’d say at this meeting for some time. He was organising his thoughts when Tonks’ jackrabbit patronus streaked past him and out through the wall.

Ten minutes later, an incorporeal patronus appeared through the wall and spoke to Tonks, who passed it on to Harry, “Minister’s office in five minutes. The Weasley floo will have access to his office floo for two people for sixty seconds.”

“Perfect. Let’s head down in exactly five minutes. Can you let me know when that is? I really need to get a new watch. Mine broke in fourth year.”

Harry spent five minutes continuing to organise his thoughts, then followed Tonks down the stairs. As they entered the kitchen, Tonks asked, “Mind if we use the floo Molly? The Minister has ordered me to bring Harry to his office immediately.”

Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed the flower pot off the mantelpiece and offered it to Harry.

Mrs Weasley was flustered, “The Minister you say? The floo? Right now? Well, erm...”

She started bustling forwards as if to stand in their way, so Harry quickly grabbed a handful of powder from the pot, threw it down and stepped into the green flames, “Minister for Magic’s Office!”

He stumbled out into the Minister’s Office and patted himself down as Tonks stepped out of the floo behind him. A few seconds later a loud metallic clunk sounded from the fireplace. Harry guessed the floo was now closed.

Scrimgeour stepped around his desk and offered his hand, “Harry! Good to see you!”

Harry shook the Minister’s hand warmly, “Rufus! Likewise.” He turned to face Tonks, “I need to chat to Rufus about some things that it would be better if you didn’t know. Could you excuse us for half an hour?”

Scrimgeour stared at the pink teenager in front of him, “ _Tonks?_ ”

Tonks cringed, “Yes sir! Er, I mean Rufus... I’m um, in disguise, you know?”

“Disguise... Yes, of course.” Scrimgeour replied, looking amused.

“I’ll just um... go check my mail then,” Tonks said lamely. She let herself out and closed the door.

“Butterbeer, Harry?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Scrimgeour served drinks and they settled into the sofa and chair like last time. “I assume you saw the story?”

“I did,” Harry confirmed. “Thank you, much appreciated. Umbridge finally got what she deserved. She was a right nasty piece of work.” He took a swig of Butterbeer. “So let’s get down to business. There’s a lot to cover. Why don’t I start? I’ll outline my thinking and we can go from there. The basic premise of our arrangement is that you have resources I could use, while I have information and PR-value that you could use. Let’s also not lose sight of the fact that we’re on the same side.”

Scrimgeour nodded sagely, “Quite so, quite so...”

“First the easy stuff”, Harry continued. “You’d like me to make various appearances in support of the Ministry. Just let me know where and when and I’ll be there. We should discuss each occasion in advance so we’re on the same page message-wise, but you can take that as agreed. In return, I’d like you to help me be a more effective asset.”

“More effective?” Scrimgeour asked. “In what way?”

“Well, if the past is any guide, I’m going to face Death Eaters again at some point. So far I’ve survived more by luck than judgement, but we can’t keep relying on that. It’s my sixteenth birthday in thirteen days. I suggest that we emancipate me on that date, declare me legally an adult, remove me from the Trace, and authorise me to use the _Unforgivables_.”

Scrimgeour’s eyes went wide.

“I know that’s a lot to take in,” Harry admitted. “But let me explain my reasoning. No matter what I do, Death Eaters will definitely come after me. When I face them I’m likely to be outnumbered, so I’ll need to put them down and put them down _hard_. On occasion I’ll need to kill.”

Harry could see that the Minister was even more taken aback.

“Don’t be too shocked by that statement, Rufus. As I said last time, there’s a lot more going on than most people know about. I killed a man with my bare hands when I was eleven.”

Scrimgeour made no effort to hide his shock, “You can’t be serious?”

Harry shrugged, “I’m afraid I am. But we’ll come back to that. I want to talk about the _Unforgivables_ first. In the past I’ve landed spells on half a dozen Death Eaters, including Bellatrix Lestrange, but they’ve all got up and walked away because I haven’t been casting with deadly intent. Well, we’re at _war_ now and we need to _act_ like it. The gloves need to come off. They’re killing innocent people, so we need to respond with equally deadly force. Right now there’s no downside to being a Death Eater – they get to rape, torture and murder, while we use stunners, throw them in jail, and watch them get rescued a few months later. There needs to be a _cost_ to being a Death Eater – they need to know that _their_ lives are on the line too.”

“I don’t know,” Scrimgeour replied doubtfully. “I think it might be a little early for that.”

“I disagree,” Harry replied firmly. “In the last war the Ministry was too soft for too long. By the time they got tough, Voldemort and his Death Eaters were unstoppable. We mustn’t make that mistake again. Everything the Ministry was doing at the _end_ of the last war, we need to do at the _start_ of this one. Voldemort has simply picked up where they left off. We need to do the same! We should authorise the DMLE and the Aurors to use deadly force, including the _Unforgivables_ , and do it _now_. I will need to be included in that authorisation, because I’ll be where the action is, and I fully expect to need all the help I can get.”

“Won’t you be safely ensconced inside Hogwarts in six weeks’ time?” the Minister wondered.

“I will,” Harry admitted, “but I’m not sure I’d describe it as safe. There are quite a few Voldy supporters among the students, and even a marked Death Eater on the staff.”

“You’re referring to Professor Snape, I assume? Dumbledore says he’s on our side...”

Harry snorted, “The Headmaster and I have different definitions of what ‘on our side’ means then. The only person Snape cares about is Snape. He dislikes everyone else, and thoroughly despises me. Dumbledore may have some hold over him, so Snape will occasionally lift a finger to prevent the most overt attempts on my life, but it’s not like I’ve make it through the last five years unscathed. I think Snape knows a lot more than he’s letting on, and he just lets most of it play out. Someone who was truly on our side wouldn’t play Russian Roulette with my life like that. Nor would he attempt to get my innocent Godfather kissed by a Dementor, or goad him into being reckless and getting himself killed. Snape might step in to protect me if something happens right under his very pointy nose, but he’ll quite happily do nothing while everyone else on our side is slaughtered.”

Scrimgeour looked pensive, “I see. Perhaps we should discuss that again nearer the time...”

“Sure,” Harry agreed. He had more important things to talk about than Snape. “Getting back to the _Unforgivables_ then... One of the Death Eater’s greatest weapons against us is the _Imperius Curse_. They can and will use it to undermine and infiltrate the Ministry. We need to counter that threat and if possible use it against them. As I understand it, there’s no known way to detect whether someone’s under the _Imperius_. However, can a person be put under the _Imperius_ twice? Surely the second _Imperius_ will overcome the first? Or the victim can be ordered to break free of the first? Or, at the very least, if it proves impossible to impose an _Imperius_ on someone that might strongly suggest they are already under one? We need to set up a team of people to look into this. Ideally they should be able to throw off the _Imperius_ themselves, so we know they’re not compromised. My hope is that we can use this team to cast the _Imperius_ on Ministry employees at regular intervals. Once an enemy _Imperius_ is detected, the victim can hopefully tell us who did it to them, which will allow us to track down the culprits, and hence their other victims. If the imperius can be broken that’s great – it’ll just look like the victim threw it off or it faded. If not, we can deliberately feed misinformation to the enemy in an effort to sabotage their operations. We need to keep this a secret though – we don’t want Voldemort circumventing it or copying it. The team casting the _Imperius_ needs to conceal what they’re doing, maybe using _Obliviate_...”

The Minister downed his drink and poured another. “That’s a pretty draconian move, but I can see the advantages – right now I don’t know who I can trust; I feel like I’m working alone, trying to do everything myself...”

Harry nodded, “Same here. We need to know we can trust those around us.” His thoughts turned unpleasantly to his former friends. “That’s just one out-of-the-box idea,” he continued. “We’ll need lots more if we want to do a better job against Voldemort than we did last time. For example, why not bring back as many retired Aurors as we can? Those guys know more about fighting Voldemort than we do. Alastor Moody should be top of that list. He’s as paranoid as they come, but right now that’s what we need. Moody and the older generation might have lots of ideas we can use. Maybe you should make him Head of Security at the Ministry.”

Harry was on a roll now, and Scrimgeour wasn’t openly objecting, so he just kept on going.

“We need to get tough in other ways. A whole bunch of marked Death Eaters got off last time by claiming the _Imperius_. But Voldemort doesn’t give his Mark out so freely, and people under the _Imperius_ certainly don’t get it. Anyone with the Mark is a bona fide supporter of Voldemort. Possessing the Mark should therefore be a capital offence. We should publish a list of suspected Death Eaters in the Daily Prophet and tell them that they have one week to present themselves at the DMLE for questioning. If they don’t have the Mark, and don’t confess any crimes under _Veritaserum_ , they can go free. But if they fail to appear, they should be declared wanted Death Eaters. Anyone found guilty of being a Death Eater should have all their assets seized, including their vaults and property. That money should be used to compensate their victims and finance our efforts. Let’s be smart about the property though – we need to start with the smaller houses and work our way up, learning as we go. We’ll probably need to hire curse-breakers from Gringotts to disable any protective charms.”

If he was honest, Harry had expected the Minister to balk at that, but Scrimgeour remained silent, observing Harry with a keen and penetrating stare. Harry knew better than to be intimidated – he’d dealt with a lot of powerful people over the last five years and knew that they’d crush him if he showed any sign of weakness. So he continued on, displaying no sign of unease.

“One of the reasons we struggle to apprehend Death Eaters is that we always wait for them to attack,” he declared. “That gives them the upper hand and usually means we’re outnumbered and unprepared. We need to turn that around by attacking _them_ so _they’re_ the ones outnumbered and unprepared. Suspected Death Eater homes should be raided by large teams of Aurors. Suspects and their families should be questioned under _Veritaserum_. We don’t want to turn Magical Britain into a police state, but right now we’re being too soft on these bastards. Possession of Death Eater robes and masks should be made a crime, so if we find one during a search they go down for it.”

“Those are mostly offensive measures, but we need defensive ones too – we _must_ protect the population. Reassuring the population, like you suggested, is all very well... but I’d like to do more. For now, we should just declare Martial Law and impose a curfew at nightfall. Anyone on the streets after that is up to no good, and should be arrested. People are already living under a self-imposed curfew so I don’t think they’ll object too loudly. I’ll get back to you with more ideas on the defence front – I need to talk to some people. In the meantime we should dissuade citizens from attempting anything themselves. We need a coordinated response to the Death Eater threat, not random small acts of resistance. Citizens should contact the DMLE if they see any Death Eaters, and not approach them. Those citizens who _want_ to fight should be trained to undertake curfew patrols under Auror supervision. That will increase the number of eyes we have on the ground. Also, if any citizen is cornered by Death Eaters, it should not be a crime for them to use the Killing Curse to defend themselves and their family. We need to revoke the automatic jail sentence for using the Killing Curse if it’s against someone in Death Eater robes.”

“And what if someone gets killed pulling a prank in Death-Eater-like robes?” Scrimgeour asked.

Harry shrugged. “We’ll announce everything in the Prophet of course, so people know what’s going on. But we’re at war. If anyone doesn’t take that seriously they have only themselves to blame.”

Scrimgeour was starting to look overwhelmed by what Harry was proposing, so Harry decided to leave it there for now.

“Tonks will be back in a minute,” Harry noted, “so let’s discuss Dumbledore and the Order next time. I’ve given you a lot to think about, so mull it over and let me know how far you’re willing to go.”

There was a knock at the door and it opened enough for Tonks to poke her head round.

Scrimgeour waved her in, “Come join us Tonks.”

He poured her a Firewhisky and topped up his own, looking thoughtful.

Harry decided to distract him, “At our last meeting, you asked why Dumbledore hasn’t been training me. I’ll tell you why: it’s because of the third line of the prophecy – the one that says, ‘he will have a power the Dark Lord knows not’. Dumbledore is convinced that the power Voldemort knows not is ‘love’.”

“ _You’re kidding!_ ” Scrimgeour exploded, looking appalled, “Does he expect you to _cuddle_ Voldemort to death?”

Harry laughed, “Who knows? Dumbledore has never explained it to me, and I find that worrying. The stuff he _has_ told me is bad enough, so the stuff he _won’t_ tell me must be _really_ awful. In Dumbledore’s defence, he may be right – it could actually be something vaguely connected with love that ultimately kills Voldemort. He seems to have a bad reaction to anything love-related. But love is too broad a concept for us to narrow down exactly what may be required. In any case, I think Dumbledore is making a huge mistake – he’s so focussed on defeating Voldemort _for good_ that he’s ignoring everything else, including the number of lives that will be lost in the process. Attempting the final kill now, when Voldemort is at his strongest, is insane. We need to weaken him first. Ultimately it’s quite likely that I’ll be the only person who can kill Voldemort for good, but he can be weakened by killing the body he currently inhabits, and _anyone_ can do that. _That_ should be our focus right now – to kill his body...”

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Rufus was holding up his hand. “What do you mean, ‘ _kill his body_ ’? Are you saying that if you kill him _he won’t actually die_?”

Tonks looked pretty alarmed by that too.

“Oh, sorry Rufus,” Harry replied. “I keep forgetting that other people don’t know everything I know. Er, right. Let me give you the short version of the story then. You probably know a lot of this, but not all of it, so I’ll start right at the beginning. During the last war, when Voldemort was at the height of his power, a prophecy was made foretelling the arrival of a child who could defeat him. That’s the prophecy I told you last time. Two children fit the description in the prophecy – a pure-blood and a half-blood. Voldemort decided that I, the half-blood like himself, was that child. He set out to kill me when I was fifteen months old. My parents went into hiding at their home in Godric’s Hollow, which was concealed under a _Fidelius Charm_. My father wanted his best friend Sirius Black, my Godfather, to be the Secret Keeper, but Sirius thought that was too obvious. He persuaded my parents to use their friend Peter Pettigrew instead. Unfortunately for them, Peter had already joined Voldemort. Peter disclosed their location and on Halloween 1981 Voldemort attacked my parents’ home. He killed my father downstairs and found my mother protecting me upstairs.”

Tonks had her hand over her mouth. Harry was so familiar with this story that he forgot that some people had never heard it.

“My mother begged for my life, but Voldemort killed her and then tried to kill me.”

Harry paused, wondering how to phrase the next bit. He had no idea why the Killing Curse hadn’t killed him, but it would be unwise to let anyone know that. In particular, it would be counter-productive to give the impression that the _Boy Who Lived_ wasn’t special at all. Much as it galled him, he was going to have to take credit for it.

“I was only fifteen months old, but even then I was performing powerful accidental magic. When Voldemort cast the Killing Curse at me, I reflected it back at him. There was a huge explosion and Voldemort’s body was destroyed. Unfortunately, he’s done something to prevent himself from dying. He was reduced to a wraith-like shade and fled, while I was left with this scar.” Harry pointed to his forehead.

“You remember all this?” asked Scrimgeour, “You remember being fifteen months old?”

“Not at first,” Harry admitted. “Like everyone else, I had no memory of my early years. I didn’t remember my parents at all. But in my third year at Hogwarts I had repeated encounters with Dementors. As you know, Dementors draw out your worst memories, and for me that was the night my parents died. The Dementors brought those memories back to me. I’ve seen the events of that night as clearly as I see you now, Rufus.”

Scrimgeour blew out a heavy breath, “That a hard thing to see Harry – very hard. You have my sympathies.”

Harry nodded in gratitude. Tonks was looking at him with wide glistening eyes.

“So Voldemort became a wraith?” The Minister prompted.

“Of some sort, yes,” Harry confirmed. “And he hid in the forests of Albania for ten long years. His organisation collapsed without him, and the war was won. But Dumbledore knew it wasn’t over. He deduced what had happened, and knew that Voldemort wasn’t dead, so he used obscure and ancient magic to protect me at my Aunt’s house. Voldemort himself has confirmed that he can’t reach me there. But Dumbledore knew that someday I would have to face Voldemort again, and he was right. A bitter and power-hungry Professor Quirrell encountered Voldemort’s shade while he was travelling in Europe, and was persuaded to help him. Voldemort entered Quirrell’s body and became a face on the back of his head.”

“Sweet Merlin!” Scrimgeour exclaimed.

Harry chuckled, “Yeah, it was pretty gross. That’s why Quirrell always wore that daft turban. Anyway, Voldemort returned to Hogwarts in my first year, in the form of Quirrell, and attempted to kill me several times. He was after the Philosopher’s Stone, you see, which Dumbledore was minding for Nicholas Flamel. Voldemort could have used the Stone to make himself immortal, so when Quirrell attempted to steal it I stopped him. We fought and I killed him with my bare hands. That was the first time I witnessed Voldemort’s reaction to ‘love’. According to Dumbledore, when my mother sacrificed herself she imbued my blood with the love she had for me. The touch of my hands upon Quirrell’s possessed body was enough to burn him to ashes.”

Scrimgeour attempted to top up his glass, but found the bottle empty. He rose from his chair and strode over to the drinks cabinet. He grabbed another bottle of Firewhisky and brought it back with him. “This is extraordinary. Why doesn’t anyone know this?”

Harry shrugged, “I’m not sure. Hogwarts is always full of rumours, but most of them are made up. I guess these rumours would seem even less likely than most. My friends and I don’t tend to talk about our adventures. It all sounds very exciting to others, I’m sure, but when you’re living it that’s not how it feels. When you’re fighting for your life it’s not exciting at all, it’s grim and terrifying. The last thing you want to do is re-live it afterwards. I guess I assumed Dumbledore would keep the authorities informed, but in retrospect that was stupid – Dumbledore doesn’t tell anyone anything. Tonks, has Dumbledore ever told you any of this?”

Tonks shook her head. She seemed too appalled to speak.

Harry nodded and continued, “So I killed Professor Quirrell when I was eleven, and Voldemort’s wraith fled back to Albania. I don’t know why he always goes there. He seems to have an affinity for the place. Maybe there’s something there that helps him survive as a wraith? Anyway, the point is that he was deprived of a body and was weak again. I’ll skip second and third years, which aren’t directly relevant, but suffice to say I nearly died several times. For three years we were free of Voldemort, until another wizard went to Albania to retrieve him – Peter Pettigrew.”

“But Pettigrew’s dead,” replied Scrimgeour.

Harry scoffed, “I wish! No, he’s very much alive. He betrayed my parents, and then he faked his death and framed Sirius Black. Sirius was entirely innocent and spent twelve years in Azkaban for crimes he didn’t commit. He escaped in my third year because he saw Pettigrew in his unregistered animagus form on the front page of the _Prophet_. Pettigrew had been living for ten years as the Weasley family rat, Scabbers. Tonks can confirm this, can’t you Tonks?”

She nodded.

“I’m guessing this didn’t make it into any Auror reports though, eh?”

Tonks looked down and shook her head.

“At Dumbledore’s suggestion?”

A tiny nod.

“Of course. Well, it wouldn’t have made a difference – Fudge would have just had you fired – so don’t worry about it.”

Harry turned back to Scrimgeour, “Sirius and I caught Pettigrew, but Snape interfered and Pettigrew escaped. With Sirius after him, he fled to Europe and followed Voldemort’s trail to Albania. Pettigrew stumbled across Bertha Jorkins along the way and took her to Voldemort as an offering. Voldemort learned of the Triwizard tournament from her and hatched a plan to enter me into the tournament and abduct me at the end. Voldemort taught Pettigrew how to make a rudimentary body, and they used that to get Voldemort back here. Cedric Diggory and I reached the cup at the end of the third task and grabbed it at the same time. Unfortunately it was a portkey which transported us to the cemetery at Little Hangleton where Voldemort’s muggle father is buried. Pettigrew killed Cedric and bound me. Voldemort then used my blood and one of his father’s bones in a ritual to create a new body for himself. He immediately summoned his most senior Death Eaters, which is how I know their names – I saw them willingly answer his call. Voldemort told them the story of his return, and berated them for not seeking him out. That’s how I know his side of this. Then we duelled.”

Harry was trying to keep things simple, so he was skipping over a lot of detail, and even changing some of it, but the gist of it was all true.

Scrimgeour leant forward, eagerness in his eyes, “You duelled with Voldemort?”

Harry nodded, “I did.”

Harry had thought long and hard about how to play this topic if it ever came up. The main conclusion he’d drawn was that being his usual modest self would undermine his cause. Scrimgeour was looking for someone to save the Magical World. The only idea Scrimgeour had presented so far was to fake Harry’s support for the Ministry, to give people hope. If Harry looked weak, Scrimgeour would balk at doing any more than that. Harry had to appear confident and strong, so he had to portray his achievements with the credit they deserved. He had to drop his modesty and convince Scrimgeour to believe in him.

Harry leant forwards to add weight to his words. “It would be foolish to underestimate Voldemort. He is a formidable enemy. He knows _vastly_ more magic than anyone else – more than Dumbledore even. And he’s strong – _really_ strong. But he is not invincible. When Dumbledore duels Voldemort they fight based on magical skill and magical knowledge. Dumbledore has more skill, but Voldemort has more knowledge, so they end up evenly matched. That’s where Dumbledore is going wrong – he’s fighting on Voldemort’s ‘home turf’, as it were. That’s stupid. When I fight Voldemort I’ll do it on _my_ home turf – magical strength – and Voldemort will _let_ me do it, because he can’t stand the idea that someone might be magically stronger than he is. I defeated him when we duelled, and he knows it. He’ll want a rematch. Unfortunately, I was surrounded by Death eaters at the time, so all I could do was grab Cedric and make my escape.”

“But like I said, we shouldn’t be planning the final kill just yet. Voldemort is only strong because he has a body. If we deprive him of that he’ll become a wraith again, and in his own words he’ll be ‘as powerless as the weakest creature alive, without the means to help himself’. That’s what we need to focus on... which brings me to the next issue – Death Eaters always fight with a numerical advantage, and Voldemort is no different. Fighting him when he’s surrounded by Death Eaters would be insane. We need to destroy that support structure and leave him fighting alone.”

“Those are the two keys to our victory – weaken him by killing his body, and get rid of his supporters. Once he’s powerless and alone, we can pursue the final kill at our leisure. These are very achievable goals, and I have a plan for how to accomplish them... but it will require support from you and the Ministry. I need you to embrace everything I’ve suggested, or I don’t think victory is achievable at all.”

Harry fell silent.

The Minister remained largely inscrutable, but Harry had given it his best shot. Now he could only wait to see what Scrimgeour decided. Harry really hoped he went for it, because right now Harry didn’t have any sort of Plan B.

He glanced over at Tonks to see how she’d taken the part she’d heard.

She was staring at him like she’d never seen him before, and drained her glass in one gulp.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	11. The Rotfang Conspiracy

Scrimgeour was lost in thought for a few minutes. Harry knew the Minister was giving him an easy ride – he wasn’t objecting to anything Harry said because he was desperate for Harry to support the Ministry. Until Harry did that, he would schmooze Harry as if his life depended on it. But there were promising signs that Scrimgeour was genuinely considering what Harry had proposed. That was the best that Harry could have hoped for really. He and Tonks sat in silence until the Minister spoke.

“As you say, you’ve given me a lot to think about Harry. I only have one question for now – are you willing to acknowledge your status as the ‘Chosen One’ and that you’re the person who’s going to kill Voldemort?”

Harry nodded, “Absolutely – we’d be crazy not to. It’ll be a powerful PR tool, and it’s probably true, so there’s no point denying it. I’d be uncomfortable reassuring people if we weren’t actually _doing_ anything, though. My chances of defeating him are basically zero if it’s me against the entire Death Eater movement. But as long as we _are_ doing something I’ll say whatever’s necessary to save lives. The fear of Voldemort paralyses a lot of people. If they know I’m going to deal with him, they should be in better shape to cope with everything else. Things are going to get worse before they get better, so we need to give people something to hold on to.”

Scrimgeour nodded, “Exactly... Exactly... Hope – that’s what people need to see them through the dark days ahead...”

It seemed to Harry that the Minister was still clinging to the idea that having Harry back the Ministry was all he needed to do. He’d been in office for about six weeks now. Had he spent the entire time trying to gain access to Harry? Regardless, Harry needed to make sure he didn’t focus on that to the exclusion of everything else.

“Not just hope, Rufus. We need to give them some tangible victories too – we need to capture or kill some Death Eaters. On the subject of which, there has already been one mass-breakout from Azkaban – if we don’t have anywhere more secure for captured Death Eaters, let’s at least put them under the _Imperius_. That way, if they escape, we might get some decent intelligence out of it.”

“If they’re under the _imperius_ won’t they feel serene and happy?” Scrimgeour objected.

Harry shrugged, “Maybe. I’m not sure which will be more powerful – the _imperius_ or the Dementors. Maybe the imperius won't even work inside Azkaban, but we can try. Subjecting inmates to mental torture isn’t our top priority right now. They’ll be just as unlikely to attempt an escape under the _imperius_ as under the crippling influence of the Dementors, so we’re not compromising security. However, in the event of a mass break-out we’ll be in much better shape if at least some of them are under our control.”

Harry drained his Butterbeer, “Think about what I’ve said Rufus. If you give me the tools I need, I’ll get rid of Voldemort for you. I’ve faced him five times now, so I know what we’re dealing with. He can be beaten, as long as you don’t tie my hands behind my back while I attempt it.”

Harry was being deliberately flippant about killing Voldemort, but of course he had no idea how he would actually do it. If he was honest, he was hoping someone else would get Voldemort with a stray spell, but that was a worry for another day. Right now he needed Scrimgeour to focus on everything else he’d proposed and not worry too much about Voldemort.

Scrimgeour nodded, “Leave it with me. I think some of your ideas are going to be a tough sell though. I agree with you on most of them, but I’d need support to push some of these policies through. People are scared, but as things stand I’m not sure they’re scared enough to accept some of these measures. It would be tantamount to admitting that things are much worse than everyone hopes they are. But, as I say, leave it with me.” He eased back into his chair, feigning nonchalance. “Now, let’s talk about your first public appearance. I was thinking of a joint Press Conference to announce your support for the Ministry. How does that sound?”

Harry smiled. “Give me something tangible to support, Rufus, and I’ll support it. I won’t back empty words, but I’ll back meaningful action one hundred percent. How about we schedule the Press Conference for the day after my Birthday? We can announce my emancipation and special authorisations at the same time – two birds with one stone, as it were.”

Scrimgeour chuckled. “Clever! Simultaneous concessions, eh? Are you planning a career in politics, Harry?”

Harry recoiled, “God no! Not if I can help it. I hate being in the spotlight. I’d rather live a life of boring obscurity. I’ll be sixteen in a few weeks time. Do you know what every other boy my age will be doing this year? Kissing girls in broom cupboards! What will I be doing? Fighting for my life, just like every year since I was eleven.”

Scrimgeour regarded Harry with a sudden and profound empathy. “You’re not what I was expecting, Harry. I share your frustration. I’m not a politician, as you have noted. I’m a soldier. I’ve spent my whole life as an Auror. I understand that world. It’s very ‘black and white’. The world of politics is never black and white. It’s always shades of murky brown. You’d be amazed at the compromises and dodgy deals I have to accept, just to get things done. Everywhere I turn, there’s some Ministry bureaucrat telling me I can’t do something, or some political faction threatening to undermine one thing if I change another.”

The Minister looked suddenly tired, “I accepted this position because I wanted to help, and I didn’t see anyone better putting their name forward. I thought I could achieve something, but all I’ve been able to do so far is tread water, because I have no information on which to make any decisions. I’m being asked to fight a war with no knowledge of the enemy’s forces or the battleground. I can’t take any action because I don’t know what I’m facing. For all I know, I could be making things _worse_. Dumbledore refused to share anything with me. He basically said I had to trust him and not to interfere. Meanwhile, my own staff don’t know anything useful, and seem to think the problem will just go away if we ignore it long enough.”

For the first time since they’d met, Harry realised why Scrimgeour’s actions didn’t match his background. He was a _soldier_ , a man of action, but he’d taken hardly any action at all. It hadn’t made any sense, but now it did – Scrimgeour felt completely out of his depth. He was paralyzed with indecision. Scrimgeour needed a confidence boost, and after Harry’s experience with the previous Minister he knew exactly what to say.

“I think you’re missing an important point, Rufus. People _knew_ you were an Auror when they appointed you. They didn’t want a politician, they wanted a leader. That’s what you should give them. If you do, I think you’ll find you have more support than you think. You’re also underestimating the power you hold. Fudge was a really dreadful Minister, but he got away with doing whatever he wanted for _years_. People may have grumbled, but nobody actually _did_ anything to stop him, not even Dumbledore. Your strongest political opponent would have been Lucius Malfoy, but he’s in Azkaban now, and is a known Death Eater. Everyone he used to associate with can be tarred with the same brush if they give you trouble. In fact, you’ll probably find most of them on the list of Death Eaters I named in the Quibbler in February.”

Harry paused for a moment, “I’m no politician either, but I appreciate the practical problems we may encounter. If we go too fast we might face a public backlash, but if we go too slow people will die. We need to get the pace just right, but I’d like to push that to its limit. Let’s not be overly cautious. People become accustomed to things faster than you’d think. Who’d have thought that we’d ever have Dementors surrounding Hogwarts? But Fudge did it and nobody stopped him! Again, not even Dumbledore. You’re much more powerful than you think, and Dumbledore is much weaker. He rarely actually _does_ anything. Last year he was repeatedly outwitted and out-manoeuvred by Umbridge and Fudge. They even ran him out of his own school and he barely lifted a finger to stop them. Whatever Dumbledore’s plans are, they seem to focus entirely on me. As long as I’m alive, I don’t think he’ll do anything on any other front... apart from tell me how disappointed he is in me, of course.”

Scrimgeour chuckled, “Yes, that sounds like Dumbledore alright.”

Harry grinned, “I think we should play to our strengths – we're both soldiers, and we should act like it. You said yourself that it’s all about _perception_. If we behave like we’re at war, and state that these measures are _normal_ in a war, people will accept them. We shouldn’t ask permission or seek support, we should just _do it_. Look at what Fudge got away with! He didn’t ask permission for all those Educational Decrees, he just did it. We can copy his method – start with things that not many would object to, and keep making them bigger. It’s cynical and unsavoury but it works. You weren’t appointed Minister so the bureaucrats could tell you what to do. You were appointed to tell _them_ what to do. If anyone doesn’t like it, fire them. Treat the Ministry like you would treat your Aurors – as people who follow your orders, _or else_.”

Scrimgeour’s shoulders straightened, just slightly.

“I think we’re only going to get one shot at this,” Harry added, “so we should give it our _best_ shot. If the people decide they want a toothless politician instead of us, and kick us out, so be it. At least we tried. We shouldn’t do ourselves an injustice by becoming toothless politicians ourselves and lead the country into the abyss. That’s not who we are. Let’s _show them_ who we are.”

Scrimgeour rose from his seat and grabbed another glass from the drinks cabinet. He put it in front of Harry and poured him a Firewhisky. Then he topped Tonks up.

“You may only be fifteen, Harry, but you’ve got more backbone than most of the people in this building. You’re right – the public expect you to defeat Voldemort, so they can hardly object to me emancipating you and giving you the tools to do it. Enjoy your birthday, Harry, and we’ll announce everything the day after. Our next step will depend on how that goes.”

If Scrimgeour followed through on that, Harry was half way there! He repressed his jubilation and tried to sound nonchalant, “Agreed.”

They clinked glasses and drank.

It was Harry’s first taste of Firewhisky... and it wasn’t half bad, though it did burn his throat like acid.

Scrimgeour gave them a wry smile, “You know... the Quibbler has a theory that a group of Aurors has formed a secret organisation within the Ministry, conspiring to control it from within. And here we are, a former Auror, a current Auror, and a future Auror... forming a secret organisation within the Ministry, conspiring to control it from within.”

The Minster broke into a deep gravelly laugh, “ _What are the chances?_ ”

Tonks looked startled, as if she’d never seen the man laugh before, or perhaps didn’t think he could.

Scrimgeour raised his glass again, “Harry, Tonks... _Welcome to the inaugural meeting... of the Rotfang Conspiracy!_ ”

\- § -

Harry was unaccustomed to alcohol. By the time they arrived back at the Burrow, his head was buzzing. Tonks caught him as he stumbled out of the floo. Harry hiccupped, then threw his arm round her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek.

“Thanksh Tonksh, you’re the besht.”

Then he noticed the room full of wide-eyed people looking at him.

Ron looked mortified. “ _You mean Nora is TONKS?”_ he shrieked. Without waiting for a reply he sprinted from the room.

He grinned stupidly, “Oops!”

Hermione came storming towards him, “ _Harry James Potter!_ Have you been _drinking_?”

Harry put his finger and thumb together, then separated them by half an inch, “Little bit.”

“ _HARRY!_ ” she shrieked. “ _The Minister got you drunk!_ Oh this is awful. He could have got you to agree to anything! What did you agree to? _Think Harry, think!_ ”

Harry squinted, “Something about... press conferences... and personal appearances maybe? Don’t know, can’t remember. He’s a nice chap though, isn’t he Tonks? Very hospitable – kept topping up my glass.”

Mrs Weasley hurried over, “Well I never! Giving alcohol to a child, Arthur! What’s the Minister playing at? Come sit down Harry, I’ll get you some water. There you are dear, just sit down there.” She hurried off to fill a glass.

Hermione was livid, “ _How could you let this happen, Tonks?_ ”

Tonks turned angry eyes towards her, “Whoa! Hold your horses there, princess. I didn’t ‘let this happen’” – she made air quotes – “the Minister ordered me to go write up my report. I was out of the room.”

“Well you should have stayed!” Hermione insisted shrilly.

“Oh right!” Tonks scoffed. “So next time the Minister for Magic orders me from the room I’ll just say, ‘Sorry Minister, but Hermione Granger, a twelve-year-old schoolgirl, says I have to stay.’ Yeah right!”

“ _I am not twelve!_ ” Hermione screeched indignantly, “ _I’m almost seventeen!”_

“Whatever,” replied Tonks, making a ‘W’ shape with her fingers.

Hermione boiled with rage, “How dare...”

“ _NOW NOW,_ ” bellowed Mr Weasley, “let’s just settle down shall we?”

Hermione started pacing behind Harry, wringing her hands, “I should have been there! Oh Harry, I’m so sorry! This is entirely my fault. I never should have listened to Ron. You can’t do this on your own! You’re too nice. People take advantage...”

She glared pointedly at Tonks.

Tonks said nothing, but raised her hand and scratched her cheek with her middle finger.

Hermione gasped and lunged at Tonks, but Ginny grabbed her round the waist and wrestled her back to her chair. Hermione seethed in impotent rage, glaring daggers at Tonks, who just smirked.

Mr Weasley stood up, “That’s enough girls! Er, I mean ladies. I’m sure it’s not that bad. The Minister is a fair man. He wouldn’t take advantage of Harry, and a few public appearances don’t sound too bad. It’ll be good for morale.”

Mrs Weasley didn’t share that view, “Arthur! Harry’s far too young to be doing that sort of thing! He’s just a boy!” She patted Harry on the shoulder, “Drink your water, dear.”

“’Ee won zee Twiwizard Tournament,” Fleur noted. Hermione and Mrs Weasley both glared at her.

“If it’s a problem I’m sure Dumbledore will sort it out,” Mr Weasley stated.

Harry slumped face-down onto the table. “Jusht going to resht my eyes,” he slurred.

“Maybe you should go sleep it off Harry,” Mr Weasley conceded. “Everyone else, calm down. It will all look brighter in the morning, you’ll see.”

Tonks grabbed Harry’s arm and helped him up from the table. They staggered up the stairs with Harry leaning heavily on her shoulder, but once they were out of sight Harry stood up straight and walked normally.

Tonks slapped him across the arm and whispered, “That was all fake?”

Harry smirked and nodded. She slapped him across the arm again.

Back in their room, Tonks started undressing immediately. “God, I can’t want to get out of these clothes. I feel like I’m in Finishing School.”

Harry sat on his bed, gawping. Tonks was easily the most gorgeous teenage girl he’d ever seen, and she was dressed in a way that definitely got his heart pumping. Tonks had been right when she described herself as a teenage boy’s wet dream – she was everything Harry had ever fantasised about. If he was honest, that’s why he’d fancied Cho Chang for a while – she had that straight-laced clean-cut pretty-girl thing going on that drove him mad with desire. He had no idea why, but it did.

In fact, now that he thought about it, that’s why he’d been so confused about Hermione in recent years – she’d gone from a bushy-haired buck-toothed and socially awkward bossy-boots in first year to a confident, slim and pretty girl with nice wavy curls who looked rather sexy in her perfectly button-up school uniform. That's why Harry had spent much of last year trying not to fantasize about taking Hermione’s clothes off. She’d be mortified if she knew he’d been thinking of her like that, so he’d kept it very much to himself. But he couldn’t help it, especially when he was asleep. Some of the dreams he'd had about her had shocked even him.

The guilt of his inappropriate thoughts and scandalous dreams about his best female friend had been eating away at him for months... but he had no such issue where Tonks was concerned, and here she was undressing... fulfilling his fantasy!

Harry’s heart was pounding in his ears as he watched in rapt fascination, trying to commit every detail to memory. It wasn’t so much that he was about to see Tonks naked (though he’d never tire of that), nor the fact the she was undressing (though that was amazing too), it was _what_ she was removing that made the difference. He had no idea why, but Tonks removing her goody-goody clothing turned him on far more than her removing any other sort of clothing. It was the transformation from prissy and uptight to naked and sexual that sent him crazy with lust.

Did that make him some sort of deviant, he wondered? Probably. So nobody must ever know – especially not Tonks or Hermione, who had both featured quite extensively in his sordid fantasies. Hermione had made many an appearance because he spent so much time with her, and frankly she was gorgeous. But Tonks had been his deliberate guilty pleasure – the sexy and exotic older woman who was entirely beyond his reach. He never could have imagined ending up where he was right now.

Tonks was blissfully unaware of what her striptease was doing to him. She’d already thrown her sweater on the bed and was half way through unbuttoning her shirt, muttering to herself. Harry could see her fabulous cleavage quite clearly, along with a good portion of her lacy pink bra. Tonks unfastened the final button and yanked the shirt off in irritation. God, her figure was spectacular! Even with her skirt and bra still on, her body took Harry’s breath away.

Reaching behind, Tonks unhooked her bra and threw it onto the growing piles of clothes. Harry’s jaw dropped open. She was topless, with her magnificent breasts completely on show, and oh my God, they were amazing! Truly spectacular! He thought her breasts had been perfect yesterday, but today they were beyond perfect – they were divine.

Even better was the combination of her being topless while still wearing her ‘finishing school’ skirt, shoes and socks.

Harry’s cock firmed into a raging hard-on.

Still oblivious to his hungry observation, Tonks sat on the bed and put a foot across her knee to unlace her converse trainer. From where he was sitting on his bed, Harry could see straight up her skirt to the lacy pink knickers covering her pussy. Tonks was jabbering away about something or other, but Harry wasn’t taking any of it in. His brain had turned to mush. He’d never see anything so sexy in his whole life – a prudish-looking girl sitting topless on a bed with her knickers showing... Harry could hardly breathe, he was so horny.

Tonks removed the shoe and sock, then switched legs and started working on the other. Harry was treated to another fabulous view up her skirt. Oh sweet Merlin! The urge to grab himself and knock one out was almost uncontrollable, but he couldn’t move. There would be no hiding the fact that he’d been totally perving on her. So Harry sat completely frozen, barely breathing at all, his eyes eating up the sight before him.

Thankfully, Tonks was too preoccupied to notice. She threw the second shoe on the floor and whipped off her sock, then stood to unzip her skirt. Harry was almost sad to see it go. That tiny little thing made teenage Tonks look amazing. He’d never wanted to shag a girl so much in his whole life. Sadly she unbuttoned the skirt, let it fall to her ankles, and stepped out of it.

Dressed in just her kickers, she started rifling through her nightwear while Harry ogled her mostly-naked body. It was truly spectacular – much like her body the previous night, but dialled up to ‘teen supermodel’ level. Tonks had become a teen goddess.

Harry yearned to touch it – to run his hands over her perfect pale skin.

“Ugh! My pyjamas don’t fit!” Tonks groaned, “Harry can I borrow one of your t-shirts?”

“Er... yeah sure,” he replied in a daze.

He watched Tonks’ boobs bounce as she walked past. They were so firm they barely moved at all. She scanned through his trunk, grabbed an old Gryffindor Quidditch t-shirt and slipped it on. It was incredibly short and loose on her – it hung half off one shoulder and only just covered her knickers – but she seemed happy with that and flounced back to her bed. The shirt bounced up and down with every step, giving him flashes of her knickers and butt cheeks.

Harry turned away so she wouldn’t see what a pervert he was and quickly changed into his pyjamas. He lay on the bed trying to think about the conversation with Scrimgeour to take his mind of his erection. The meeting had gone well, he thought, though time would tell. The Minister could still have a change of heart. Harry wouldn’t count his chickens just yet.

A knock at the door interrupted his contemplation. Tonks was already on her way to answer it, wand in hand. She stood to one side of the door, “Who is it?”

A small voice answered, “It’s... It’s Hermione. Can I talk to Harry?”

Tonks unlocked the door and whipped it open. Her wand was pointed straight in Hermione’s shocked face. Tonks checked that the corridor was empty behind Hermione, waved the girl into the room and closed the door.

“Hold it. Don’t move.” Tonks ordered.

She started patting Hermione down with one hand, while keeping her wand trained on her with the other.

“ _What are you doing?_ ” Hermione demanded, startled.

“Pipe down, princess.”

“ _Stop calling me princess!_ ” Hermione shrieked, and then made two “Eep” sounds as Tonks felt each of her boobs, a yelp as Tonks squeezed her butt cheeks, and an outraged squeal as Tonks grabbed her between her legs.

Tonks snatched Hermione’s wand from her back pocket and announced to nobody in particular, “Okay, she’s clean.”

“ _Was that really necessary?_ ” stormed Hermione.

Tonks smirked, “Not even slightly. But I enjoyed it.”

“Well _HONESTLY!_ ” huffed Hermione, going bright red.

She tried to grab her wand back but Tonks yanked it away. “You can have this back when you leave.”

Tonks placed it on Harry’s nightstand.

“Fine!” Hermione answered, through gritted teeth.

Tonks grinned innocently, “Don’t mind me. I’ll just tidy up this mess.” She bent over to grab her skirt off the floor, giving Harry a good look down her top as she did so. The sight of her perky breasts took his breath away once again. He gulped heavily, attracting a pointed glare from Hermione.

Tonks turned round to grab her socks, bending over and giving him a long look at the knickers covering her bum.

“I’ll just hang these over here...” Tonks muttered. She took a hanger from the wardrobe, and reached up to hook it over the wardrobe door. The t-shirt rode up revealing the very lacy – and basically transparent – front of her knickers. Harry’s mouth went bone dry.

“What are you _wearing_?” Hermione asked snippily.

“Oh this?” Tonks replied cheerily, indicating the t-shirt. “Harry gave it to me. Do you like it?”

She lifted her arms and twirled on the spot, which not only showed off the shirt, but flashed her knickers and concave stomach... all the way up to her pierced belly button. Harry swallowed heavily.

His view was suddenly obscured by Hermione stepping sideways into his line of sight. “Harry, could I talk to you?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to...” Her voice trailed away as she spotted the huge bulge in his pyjama trousers.

Harry was about to scramble under the covers in embarrassment when he changed his mind, “Er, my face is up here, Hermione.”

She jumped as if electrocuted, and stared fixedly at his eyes, “Sorry! Erm, yes, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you today.”

Something in Harry snapped. He’d been ignoring it, but Hermione’s betrayal had cut him deeply, and he needed to understand it.

“What happened to you this summer?” he asked harshly. “You’ve always been my most loyal friend – my _only_ loyal friend, if I’m honest. Ron’s let me down more than once, but you never have. You’ve always been there for me, through thick and thin. You got me through it all. Without you I’d have been alone, like I was the first ten years of my life. I thought I’d found a true friend...”

Hermione was looking at the floor now, unable to meet his eyes, “Harry nothing’s happened...”

“I’ve always looked up to you, Hermione. You were my role model – the person I could rely on to steer me in the right direction, to show me right from wrong. I know I always say that Ron’s my best mate, but it was really _you_ that was my best mate.”

Hermione flinched at his use of the past tense. She lifted a sleeve and wiped her eyes, but didn’t reply.

“I loved _that_ Hermione,” Harry continued. “But _this_ Hermione, the one you are now, I don’t know who she is. _My_ Hermione never would have said the things you’ve been saying about Fleur. _My_ Hermione never would have plotted to undermine my confidence in myself, or leave me isolated and alone. _My_ Hermione never would have buried her head in the sand, allowing Death Eaters to hurt and kill others while we sat safe and protected in Dumbledore’s castle. So what happened? Where did my Hermione go? What made her betray me and abandon her moral code? And if she ever comes back, how will I know I can trust her?”

With a strangled sob, Hermione bolted for the door and fled the room.

Tonks rose from her bed and closed the door, “Ouch.”

Harry wrung his hands, “I know. I shouldn’t have said that. I was upset. Should I go after her?”

“No, it was harsh but true – she did what she did and you called her on it. Maybe she’ll think twice next time.”

“I hope so,” Harry agreed. “I want the old Hermione back. She was special. She held me to a higher standard – made me be the very best version of myself. I’m just doing the same for her because the old Hermione would have wanted me to. Even if she hates me now and we’re never friends again, the world deserves to have the old Hermione in it, not this one. This one is just like everyone else.”

With that, Harry climbed into bed and began his _Occlumency_ exercises.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	12. Just Teasing

Harry and Tonks were the first down to breakfast. Mrs Weasley was cooking so she didn’t see how short the t-shirt was that Tonks was wearing. Once Tonks was seated, you couldn’t tell that she had no pyjama trousers on.

They were just finishing off their fried breakfast when Ginny and Hermione came down and sat opposite.

“What did you do to Hermione?” Ginny whispered angrily, “She’s been in floods of tears all night and won’t say why.”

Hermione shushed her, “Quiet Ginny! I told you Harry had every right... and anyway I don’t want to talk about it.”

Before Harry could say anything, Tonks leaned forwards and whispered to Ginny.

“Hermione wanted Harry to shag her, but he wasn’t interested.”

There was a shocked silence before Hermione hissed, “ _I did not want Harry to shag me!_ ”

Tonks snorted, “Yeah, right. We both saw you undressing him with your eyes!”

“ _I did no such thing!_ ”

“No? Then why were you staring at his knob?”

“ _I wasn’t!_ It was just... well that was because...”

“Oh, so you admit you were staring at his knob, then?”

“What? No! Well yes, but...”

Despite their whispering, Mrs Weasley had come over to deposit plates in front of Hermione and Ginny and caught some of it. “ _Cease this lewd conversation immediately!_ ” she shrieked. “Hermione, I am _very_ disappointed in you!”

“But Mrs Weasley...”

“I said _enough!_ Now all of you eat your breakfast and keep a civil tongue in your heads.”

She glared at them pointedly for several long seconds, and then turned back to the cooking.

Hermione hissed in Harry’s direction, “Harry, tell them...”

Mrs Weasley whirled around, “ _Hermione Jean Granger, what did I just say?_ ”

Tonks sucked air through her teeth, “Oooo, the full name. Ouch!”

“But...” Hermione turned appealing eyes towards Mrs Weasley, who just glowered even more fiercely at her. Hermione wilted under the force of the older woman’s glare. “Sorry Mrs Weasley.”

As soon as Mrs Weasley’s back was turned again, Hermione leaned towards Ginny and whispered, “Ginny I swear...”

Tonks slid Hermione’s wand across the table, “You left this on Harry’s nightstand.”

Ginny stared at the wand, gave Hermione a betrayed look, then grabbed her plate and moved to the other end of the table. Hermione deflated in defeat and sat glowering at her food.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Tonks.

She smiled angelically, “What? I was only teasing. Anyway, Hermione needs to loosen up or she’ll end up like McGonagall. We definitely don’t need two of those in the world.”

Harry and Tonks were about to leave when Ron made a very sheepish entrance. “Oh, it’s you two,” he muttered moodily.

Mrs Weasley put a huge plate of food in front of him and the left to do laundry. Ron shovelled four forkfuls of food into his mouth and began chewing grumpily. Harry stopped paying attention and began thinking about the day ahead. He had a very specific task in mind for today. A long overdue task...

“Funny prank you played on me yesterday,” Ron muttered. “Really hilarious; bet you laughed all night about that one.”

“Nah,” Tonks replied, “We were too busy shagging weren’t we Harry?”

“Yeah,” Harry murmured absently... and then his brain caught up with what Tonks had said. “Wait, _what?_ ”

Ron’s jaw dropped so far that most of the half-chewed contents fell out and landed back on his plate.

Tonks grabbed Harry by the arm, “Come on, Harry, let’s go shower. I’m feeling dirty...”

She dragged him out of his chair and pushed him towards the stairs.

Ron was still gawping like an idiot when he caught sight of Tonks’ bare legs. His eyes almost bugged out of his head. As Tonks climbed the stairs her t-shirt kept bouncing up, exposing her lacy knickers to the whole room. Ginny gasped and Ron nearly choked on a sausage. When he finally stopped coughing he grabbed his plate and made a dash to follow Tonks up the stairs.

“Thanks Mum!” he called out, keeping his eyes firmly on Tonks’ swaying arse up ahead. “Gotta go shower.”

Ginny groaned and starting smacking her forehead on the table.

\- § -

Harry had assumed that the Immersion Therapy shower they’d shared yesterday was a one-off, but Tonks dragged him into the bathroom with her again.

“Don’t be daft Harry,” she admonished, “Immersion Therapy doesn’t work in one session, and we still have your safety to consider. Also, my back isn’t going to scrub itself, is it?”

Like last time, Tonks went first. She was only wearing a t-shirt and knickers so undressing didn’t take very long. Once she was naked, she held her arms out and gave him a slow twirl. “What do you think of the new bod Harry?”

Harry had to clear his throat twice before he could speak, “I like it. I like it very much.”

Tonks’ tinkling laugh filled the room, “I can see that,” she said, eying his bulging pyjama trousers. “I think I like it too. It’s nice having slightly smaller boobs.” She looked down at herself. “Well, slightly smaller everything really.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Harry goggled. She couldn’t possibly mean what he thought she meant... could she?

Tonks giggled and climbed into the shower.

A few minutes later she called him over to do her back, and then she did his back before climbing out. It felt strangely intimate, and yet comforting somehow, to look after each other like that.

Harry turned the shower temperature down to lukewarm in a vain effort to get rid of his boner without having a fully cold shower. It didn’t work... not even slightly. He towelled down and wrapped the towel round his waist.

“Crikey Harry,” Tonks laughed, “You look like you’re smuggling a beater’s bat down there.”

Harry scowled and blushed at the same time.

“Come on,” she continued, “Nobody’s going to see you.”

Naturally, they stepped out into the hall just as Hermione and Ginny were heading up the stairs.

Ginny came to a sudden halt and stared straight at the bulge in Harry’s towel. Hermione bumped into her and yelped.

Harry froze like a rabbit in headlights.

Tonks rolled her eyes and dragged him off towards their room, “Come on Harry, I’ll give you a rub to help you relax.”

Hermione and Ginny both goggled.

As soon as the door was closed, Tonks burst out laughing. “Did you see their faces! Absolutely hilarious! Oh, teasing those two is never going to get old. I will give you a massage though – your shoulders look like bags of rocks. Why are you so tense?”

Harry sighed, “Just thinking about everything I need to do.”

“Well, take a break for five minutes. Lie on the bed.”

Harry lay down on his back with the towel still wrapped around his waist.

Tonks rolled her eyes and pushed him onto his front, “Face down, you prat.”

Tonks tried to kneel over him but her towel got in the way, so she threw it on a chair and tried again. With one knee either side of his waist, she sat straddling his thighs, and started kneading his back with her thumbs.

Harry groaned. “Oh yeah, that feels great!”

“I know, right? There’s no better way to relax. You can do the same to me some time. How’s my technique? You want me to do it a bit harder?”

“No that’s perfect. Oh yeah, just like that. Ooooooohhhhhhhhhh.”

“Want me to go faster?”

“No it’s fine... a bit firmer maybe. Up a little... Yes! Just there. Press with your thumbs. That’s it! Mmmmmmm...”

Harry moaned in pleasure for several minutes as Tonks worked all the kinks out of his shoulders. Next she worked on his neck, which felt great, and then surprised him by massaging his scalp with her fingertips.

“Oh, that feels amazing!” Harry groaned.

“I know, right?” Tonks replied. “The head is amazingly sensitive.”

Somebody gasped outside the door. Frantic whispering was followed by two sets of footsteps pounding up the stairs.

Tonks paused, and then carried on with the massage, “You know, I think I forgot to silence the door. _Oops_.”

Harry laughed out loud, “Oh my God Tonks, you’re awful!”

“I don’t know what you mean Harry. Now how’s that? Feel better?”

“Yes thanks.” Harry rolled onto his back, with Tonks still kneeling over him. He hadn’t really thought about it, but with her towel on the chair, she was of course straddling him completely naked. He swallowed heavily.

Harry had never seen Tonks’ breasts from this angle (or anyone else’s for that matter), but he thoroughly approved. They looked fabulous. His eyes ran down her body until he was looking at her pussy. He could see more of her folds from this angle, and with her legs splayed either side of him her labia were quite widely parted. His cock throbbed hungrily.

Tonks giggled, “See something you like, Harry?” She lowered her weight onto him, so her vagina was pressing on his penis through his towel. He could feel the heat coming off her.

Harry groaned.

“Oh sorry Harry... is that your cock my pussy is sitting on?”

Somewhere upstairs there was a shocked squeal. Tonks and Harry both looked up at the ceiling.

“You know, Harry, I think the girls might have themselves a set of extendible ears.”

Tonks leaned forwards very slowly, giving Harry a fantastic view of her breasts, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Time to silence that door I think.”

She climbed off the bed and used her wand to do exactly that, then adopted a more business-like tone, which was only slightly undermined by the fact that she was stark naked.

“So what are we doing today, Harry? More _Occlumency_ and combat?”

Harry shook his head, “No. I’ve been putting this off... but today I’m in the mood for revenge. Come on, let’s get dressed.”

Tonks still had just the one set of clothes – her ‘finishing school’ outfit as she’d taken to calling it – so she cast a refreshing charm on them and put them on again.

“Ready?” Harry asked.

“Sure.”

“Okay. Dobby!”

With a crack, Dobby appeared. “Harry Potter called for Dobby?”

Harry smiled. It always warmed his heart to see Dobby, “Hi Dobby. This is my good friend Tonks.”

“Dobby is very happy to meet Harry Potter’s friend.”

Tonks smiled at him, “Wotcha Dobby.”

“Dobby, could you take us both to the Hogwarts kitchen?”

“Yes, Harry Potter, Dobby can do that.”

“Great, thanks Dobby. Let’s go then, if you’re ready?”

Harry took hold of Dobby’s outstretched hand. Tonks raised an eyebrow and did the same. With a crack, they _disapparated_. A split second later they reappeared in the Hogwarts kitchen.

Harry turned to Tonks, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone that house elves can do that.”

She nodded in wide-eyed shock, “You’re not kidding! If You-Know-Who realised they can do that...”

“Exactly,” Harry agreed.

He glanced around the kitchen. Dozens of elves were hard at work, but not the one he wanted.

“Kreacher!” he yelled.

There was a loud crack and the house-elf that Harry had so reluctantly inherited from Sirius appeared out of nowhere in front of him: tiny, half-human-sized, his pale skin hanging off him in folds, white hair sprouting copiously from his bat-like ears. He was still wearing a filthy rag as a loin-cloth, and the contemptuous look he bent upon Harry showed that his attitude had altered no more than his outfit.

“Hello Kreacher,” Harry said coldly.

[](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	13. Harry’s Revenge

“Master,” croaked Kreacher in his bullfrog voice. He bowed low, muttering to himself, “the Potter brat has returned with Miss Dromeda’s mudblood spawn, oh what would my mistress say to see Kreacher in such company?”

Harry growled angrily.

“Kreacher, I forbid you to speak, mutter, mumble or mouth any words other than to answer my questions.”

Kreacher gagged. After several seconds of hacking noises, he lifted his eyes to glare in malevolent silence at Harry.

“Now Kreacher,” Harry continued icily, “I’d like to talk to you about the way you betrayed and murdered your previous master.”

A vast cacophony of smashing plates and dropped pans filled the kitchen. Harry looked around. All activity had ceased and every single elf was staring at him in appalled horror. Kreacher looked around in alarm.

Harry returned his attention to the elf before him, “Kreacher, I accuse you of _deliberately_ misinterpreting your masters’ orders. He told you to leave, which you knew meant leave the room, but instead you left the house. You therefore left without permission, knowing full well that your master did not wish it. Do you deny this, yes or no?”

Kreacher stared at Harry and then glanced around at the watching elves in trepidation. His mouth opened and closed several times, before an answer was wrenched out of him, very much against his will.

“No.”

Gasps erupted among the watching house elves. With a faint pop, pop, pop, more elves started appearing. They all stood in judgemental silence, their eyes trained on Kreacher.

Harry resumed his questioning. “Kreacher, you have admitted leaving your master’s house against his wishes. You then went to the house of Narcissa Malfoy, knowing full well that she was your master’s enemy, and you revealed your master’s secrets to her. You did this knowing that she and her husband were allied with Lord Voldemort. Do you deny this, yes or no?”

Kreacher wrapped his hands round his own throat in an apparent attempt to prevent himself from speaking. The watching elves shuffled restlessly, awaiting Kreacher’s answer.

Despite his attempts to thwart it, a barely audible “No” squeaked out of Kreacher’s mouth.

The room erupted in yells of disgust. Many of the elves began edging away as if worried they might catch a disease. More elves were arriving all the time – there was a constant pop-pop-pop in the background. The room was teaming with them – easily a hundred now.

Harry continued relentlessly, his gaze frosty and his voice as hard as stone. “You knew the Malfoys would disclose your master’s secrets to Lord Voldemort, and yet you revealed them anyway. Indeed you _laughed_ when you told Dumbledore what you’d done, _boasting_ of your treachery. Do you deny this, yes or no?”

Kreacher threw himself to the ground and began pounding his head on the stone floor.

“Kreacher I forbid you to harm yourself!” Harry yelled. “ _Now answer my question!_ ”

Kreacher glared at Harry from his prostrate position. With pure loathing in his eyes he shouted back defiantly, “ _NO!_ ”

Exclamations of shock and dismay swept through the watching elves. Angry growls could be heard from some. The mood in the room was turning distinctly ugly.

But Harry was not done. He had come here to make Kreacher pay for his crimes. Dumbledore might be willing to forgive the vindictive little elf for killing Sirius, on the grounds that Sirius had apparently not been very nice to him, but Harry most certainly was not. For a start, Harry had never seen Sirius mistreat the elf... apart from shouting at him, but let’s face it he deserved to be shouted at for the terrible things he said. That might justify murder in Dumbledore’s world, but it did not in Harry’s. So Harry was here to expose Kreacher’s actions in front of his peers, shaming the elf for what he’d done. It was scant punishment for murder, but it would have to do. Much as he might want to, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to do anything more severe.

“On the instructions of your master’s enemies,” Harry growled, “you deliberately deceived _me_ , your master’s Godson and heir, regarding his whereabouts. You even injured your master’s friend and saviour, Buckbeak, to conceal your deceit. You helped Voldemort to spring a trap upon me, during which I and five of my closest friends almost lost our lives. And as you had hoped, your betrayals _did_ lead to the death of your master. You deliberately murdered the last surviving member of the House of Black, destroying forever the Family you were meant to serve. Do you deny this, yes or no?”

Kreacher visibly winced at the accusation, perhaps for the first time realising what he had done.

“No,” the elf whispered miserably.

Harry could find no sympathy for the elf. His voice rose with his anger, shouting over the angry muttering of the elves around them.

“You murdered your master, you betrayed your Family, and you destroyed your House. You have shamed your ancestors and all your kind. There will be no place of honour for you upon the wall, because you have no honour. Nor can there be any forgiveness for your crimes, because they are unforgivable. I declare you faithless and disloyal. You, Kreacher, are a _disgrace_ to the House of Black.”

Despite Kreacher’s earlier bravado, Harry’s words fell like a hammer blows upon the elf. His remaining defiance crumbled. He curled into a ball and began sobbing into the stone floor.

Harry’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I would have been a kind master to you Kreacher, but you murdered someone I love. I will not reward that with kindness. I cannot free you to further betray me, but what _possible use_ can anyone have for a house elf who gleefully arranges for his master to be murdered by his enemies?”

Silence fell over the room. Hundreds of angry elf faces glared at Kreacher with disgust and violence in their eyes.

For several long seconds the only sound was that of Kreacher’s pitiful weeping. But then a ripple passed through the room. Heads turned and the watching elves’ anger turned to reverence. They began bowing to a newcomer. Harry heard the sound of bare feet shuffling forward slowly. The circle of watching elves parted to reveal an approaching and very elderly elf. He wore the same clothes as all Hogwarts elves, but his looked very out-dated – almost heraldic, but the colours had all faded away to shades of beige – and they hung off his skeletal frame as if he had once been much broader than he was now. He leaned on a walking stick and spoke with a voice even more gravelly than Kreacher’s.

“There is a way, Harry Potter.”

Kreacher’s head shot up. Terrified panic flashed across his face. He seemed to be straining to scream, but was prevented by Harry’s orders. His eyes bulged larger and larger, until they rolled up into his head and he fainted into a crumpled heap.

Nobody moved to help him.

The ancient elf regarded Kreacher without emotion, “If you will swear to never speak of it, for it is a secret among our kind, we can prevent Kreacher from betraying you.”

Harry glanced at Tonks, who nodded. “We swear,” Harry replied.

The ancient elf inclined his head, “We will need an elf volunteer to administer this punishment, but it is a dishonour so severe that most will refuse to perform it. Will any elf here-present assume this duty?”

Harry looked around, and sure enough, elves were scrambling backwards to distance themselves from him... but one elf did step forward.

“Dobby will do it,” Dobby stated firmly.

The elderly elf nodded gravely, “So be it.”

Horrified muttering spread through the watching elves.

“This is the worst disgrace that can befall our kind, Harry Potter. You must not reveal it to anyone. Do you accept these terms?”

“I do,” Harry replied immediately.

“Very well, then Kreacher’s punishment is this: instruct him to obey orders from Dobby as if they came from you, and Dobby will make sure that Kreacher cannot circumvent them.”

The elf leaned forward on his cane, his look was suddenly intense. “ _We know our own kind you see, Chosen One... and we know how to bind ourselves._ ”

The elf had put enormous emphasis on those words. So much so that Harry had the very strong impression that they carried meaning beyond what was said. But what?

The ancient elf’s eyes bored into him, “ _Do you understand, Chosen One?_ ”

Harry was sure of it now. The elf was trying to tell him something... to send him a message... something he couldn’t say directly. Something he was _prevented_ from saying, perhaps? Why had he called Harry the ‘Chosen One’? It hadn’t sounded like he was talking about the prophecy. It was more like the _elf_ was choosing Harry. But choosing him for what?

_We know our own kind... we know how to bind ourselves._

Harry’s face paled in sudden comprehension. _We know how to bind ourselves._ The elf wasn’t talking about being bound by orders... he was talking about being bound with magic! He was saying that the elves had been enslaved by elf magic! _Someone had forced them to enslave themselves!_

Harry was horrified. He could picture exactly how it would have happened. Wizards, in fear of the magical power of the child-like elves, would have conspired to find a way to subjugate them. Just as Harry had seen ten dragon-handlers outnumber and control a dragon, they’d have cornered an elf and overpowered it by weight of numbers. They’d have studied and questioned it, forcing it to comply, until eventually they discovered that elf magic could control elves. It was elegant and appalling in its simplicity. All they had to do was force an elf to design an elf spell to force elves into obedience – a variant of the _Imperius Curse_ , perhaps? That first elf would cast the spell on a second. Those two would cast the spell on two more, who’d cast it on four more, then eight, sixteen, thirty two... the spell would spread like a virus through the elf population. Within days the entire population would be enslaved! No doubt the spell would be designed to pass down to their children, and include prohibitions on telling anyone how it was done, or how it could be _undone_. Once every elf was enslaved, the spell could not be broken, because only an elf could break it, and they were all forbidden from doing so! As Harry had just seen, when an elf tries to disobey an order they just pass out. Their enslavement was unbreakable.

It was a truly diabolical scheme.

Harry staggered, “My God!”

He had to grab onto Tonks’ shoulder to steady himself. She caught him, her expression startled and confused. But Harry was lost in his thoughts. Hermione was right! Elf enslavement was truly abhorrent.

Tonks said something but he didn’t hear it. His mind was spinning.

This was the secret to how the elves were enslaved, but why had the elf told him? He’d called Harry the ‘Chosen One’... as if... as if _he_ was choosing Harry... Was he implying that Harry could somehow free them from their enslavement? _How?_ Only an elf could do that, but all the elves were enslaved...

And then it hit him. All the elves were not enslaved! Dobby was free! Dobby had broken the spell on himself! Dobby could free the others! But of course Dobby didn’t realise it. The knowledge of how it was done would have been lost over the generations, perhaps even prohibited from being shared. If so, this ancient elf must be one of the few who somehow knew. But he was forbidden from telling anyone... and then this opportunity arose to _hint_ at it, in the guise of helping a wizard to control his elf.

Harry steadied himself and stepped forward to stand beside Dobby. He put a hand on Dobby’s shoulder. A look passed between Harry and the ancient elf; a look heavy with meaning.

Harry answered both the spoken and the unspoken question, “I understand sir; I understand perfectly.”

The ancient elf smiled and bowed deeply, “Thank you, Harry Potter.”

Harry bowed back. This elf was trying to free his people, he deserved enormous respect.

The elf spoke again, “Once you have given the order, Kreacher will effectively have another elf as his master. He will be shamed more than you can imagine.”

The ancient elf snapped his fingers and Kreacher jerked awake.

Harry immediately gave him the order, “Kreacher, from this moment forward I command you to obey orders from Dobby as if they came from me.”

Kreacher stared at him for a moment as if unable to understand what he’d said. He turned to look at Dobby, then back at Harry... and then with a high-pitched wail he covered his face with his hands and bawled.

Dobby stepped forward, “Kreacher, return to your master’s house and wait for Dobby.”

Kreacher looked at Dobby in abject misery, and then disappeared with a crack.

Dobby turned to Harry, “Dobby should go, Harry Potter. Winky can take you and Miss Tonks back to your room.”

Harry nodded and Dobby disappeared.

With a respectful nod, the ancient elf left as quickly as he’d arrived, disappearing back into the crowd of elves. They began to rapidly disperse, eager to get away. Soon only a few remained, cleaning up the broken crockery and busying themselves around the kitchen. For several seconds Harry just stared. Had that actually just happened?

Winky appeared from somewhere near the fireplace; her clothes were ragged and unwashed and she was clutching a bottle of Butterbeer. She looked exactly the same as last time Harry had seen her, but even dirtier.

“How are you, Winky?” Harry asked.

“Winky is very ashamed. Nobody wants Winky. Winky doesn’t deserve a new master...”

She took a swig of Butterbeer and sniffed loudly.

It had been almost two years since Winky was given clothes, and she was no better. She wasn’t free like Dobby. She was still enslaved, but was being tortured into an early grave by her lack of a master to serve.

Harry knelt in front of her, “Winky, it just so happens that I am in need of a female house elf. I would very much like to become your master if you will have me?”

Winky stared at him in disbelief, and then frowned in suspicion, “Would Winky be _paid_?”

“Would you want to be?”

“Winky would never sink so low!”

“Then no,” Harry replied with a smile.

Winky’s lip quivered, and then she burst into tears, which spilled out of her great brown eyes and splashed down her front. The bottle of Butterbeer slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor, rolling under a table.

Harry put a hand on her tiny shoulder, “Would you like to be my house elf, Winky?”

Winky sniffed loudly, wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and nodded vigorously. Eventually she squeaked out a “Yes, Master Harry”.

Harry and Winky both glowed faintly for a second.

“Is it done?” asked Harry.

Winky nodded, “Yes Master Harry. Winky is your house elf now.”

Harry smiled, “Great! Welcome to the House of Potter-Black, Winky! Could you take us to join Dobby and Kreacher at my house? I think I better explain to Dobby.”

“Yes, Master Harry.” Harry took Winky’s outstretched hand and motioned for Tonks to do the same. They disapparated with a crack.

Harry hadn’t imagined coming back to Grimmauld Place so soon, or possibly at all, but there was too much going on to avoid it. They’d apparated into the sitting room, which was one of the least unpleasant rooms. Kreacher was on the floor sobbing at Dobby’s feet. He lifted his head as they appeared, took one look at Winky and wailed in fresh torment.

Dobby came bounding over, “Harry Potter has bound Winky! I told you Winky! Harry Potter is kind and generous; he would not let Winky suffer! Thank you Harry Potter! Thank you! Winky is a good elf, she will make you proud.”

“You don’t mind, Dobby?” Harry asked in concern. “I didn’t do the wrong thing?”

“Oh no, Harry Potter, Winky isn’t like Dobby. Winky is needing a master, or she is getting very upset. Dobby didn’t want to say, but Dobby hoped Harry Potter would bind Winky someday.”

“Well good, that’s a relief,” Harry replied. “Now, I’d like a quick word, and then we’ll leave you to it. I’d like this house turned back into a house to be proud of. It was grand once, and I think it should be again. Winky, would you like to take a look round the house? I’ll call when we need you.”

Winky looked at the dreadful state of the room and her face lit up, “Yes, Master Harry. Winky will start cleaning straight away.” With a crack, she vanished.

As soon as she was gone, Harry whispered to Dobby, “Could you maybe do something about Winky and Kreacher’s clothes? I don’t mind what they wear as long as it’s not dirty rags.”

Dobby nodded.

“Ok, perfect. Winky!” Winky reappeared in an instant. “We’d like to go back to the Burrow. Do you know where that is?”

“Yes, Master Harry. Winky is knowing every place her Master knows.”

Ah, that explained how she’d got through the Fidelius on Grimmauld Place, Harry realised belatedly.

“Great, thanks!” he told her. “Let’s go.”

They took Winky’s hands and apparated straight into their bedroom at the Burrow. Harry hadn’t thought to specify which room, so he was delighted that she’d anticipated what he needed.

Before Winky headed back to Grimmauld Place, Harry gave her one more instruction, “Could you collect some owl-order clothing catalogues for Tonks? She needs a whole new wardrobe. Once she’s chosen what she wants, could you get money from my vault at Gringotts and go buy it?”

Winky hopped from foot to foot in delight. Harry realised it must have been a long time since she’d had a woman to look after.

Tonks looked embarrassed and uncomfortable, “You don’t have to buy me stuff, Harry! I mean... Well, I don’t actually have any clothes that fit... or money to buy new ones... but that doesn’t mean _you_ have to buy them...”

Her voice was trailing off by the end, as she realised that the alternative was to wear the same set of clothes every day.

Harry laughed, “Don’t be daft Tonks! It’ll be Black Family money I’m spending, and you’re a Black. Anyway, you said it was my fault you need new clothes, so you can’t have it both ways. If it helps, I get plenty out of you wearing nice clothes... and I also get to see you take them off!”

Tonks grinned, “Well... okay then... as long as it’s just you being a perv and not some male-dominance bullshit.”

Harry snorted – he hadn’t even thought of that. “No, it’s definitely the perv thing.”

Within minutes, Winky was back with a stack of about twenty catalogues. Tonks’ eyes lit up.

Winky handed them over, “Mistress can just call Winky when she’s ready,” and she disappeared.

Tonks waggled her eyebrows. “Ooo, Mistress! I’ve never been a ‘Mistress’ before.”

She grabbed a quill and dove onto her bed, where she lay on her elbows kicking her legs up behind her as she flicked through the catalogues. Harry watched in amused fascination as she started chewing the end of the quill, circling things she liked the look of. He couldn’t help but notice how very cute she looked... and also that he could see right up her skirt.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone asks, Harry is not going to use an army of free elves to defeat Voldemort! (Apparently that fanfic already exists...)


	14. Tonks’ Revenge

Harry lay on his bed thinking about the elves. He knew how to free them now, but he couldn’t just go ahead and _do_ it. Preparations would have to be made. It would be an enormous shock to both the elves and the Wizarding world. Dobby had spent two years trying to find a Wizarding family who’d pay him to work, and had failed to find a single family who would. If all the eves were suddenly freed, it was very likely that most of them would end up on the streets with no money, no food and no way to support themselves. It was also likely that the darker families would kill their elves rather than risk their secrets being revealed. Legislation would be needed to protect the elves and their rights.

Freeing the elves wasn’t something Harry could achieve overnight. It might take years. Nevertheless, it _could_ and _should_ be done. But before he did anything, Harry had to preserve what he’d learnt – if Harry was killed in the coming war, this knowledge mustn’t die with him. So Harry dug his writing supplies out of his trunk and wrote a letter, explaining everything. When he was done he folded it up, sealed it, and wrote on the front:

_To be given to Hermione Granger in the event of my death – Harry Potter._

He summoned Dobby and asked him to put the letter in his vault at Gringotts. That brought him to the second problem – Dobby.

The only way to free the elves was to use a free elf, and Dobby was the only one in existence. He was uniquely valuable. Harry would do everything he could to keep Dobby safe anyway, of course, but Dobby would be in danger just like everyone else who was close to Harry. If Dobby was killed there would be no way to free the elves.

Harry thought about that for a while, and couldn’t escape the conclusion that they needed to free at least one other elf as soon as possible, just in case something happened to Dobby. The problem with that was that it would undoubtedly take a lot of careful thought and preparation. He’d need to talk to Dobby, probably at great length, to figure out exactly how to do it. They wouldn’t want to get it wrong and cause harm to the elf they were trying to help. It might also require more magical knowledge or, Harry confessed to himself, _brain power_ than Harry actually possessed. On top of all that, Harry was going to be fully occupied fighting the war...

Harry was left with two options – wait until after the war, and hope that Dobby survived that long... or delegate this problem to someone who could deal with it sooner. There was only one person he’d trust with that, of course – Hermione – but that created problems of its own. He wasn’t confident of her motivations any more, and he wasn’t sure that she’d be willing to free only _one_ elf. She’d want to free the whole lot straight away.

He considered it from every angle, and after a good hour, he decided that the best course would be to test the water.

Mrs Weasley called them for lunch, so Harry and Tonks headed down. Bill, Fleur and Mr Weasley were all at work during the day, so it was just Mrs Weasley and the kids at lunchtimes. Ron, Hermione and Ginny trooped in just behind Harry and Tonks. Harry noted that the girls were giving him very disapproving looks. Ron seemed oblivious, so he guessed they hadn’t revealed what they’d overheard. People were so funny – they’d happily spread all manner of unsubstantiated rumour, but would often keep something they thought they knew _for sure_ to themselves.

Mrs Weasley served them all a delicious thick vegetable soup with crusty loaves and butter. They ate in silence for a while. Tonks was still wearing her ‘finishing school’ clothes, which Ron seemed to approve of, judging by the way he kept leering at her out of the corner of his eye.

“What have you two been up to this morning?” asked Ginny, as much to distract Hermione from scowling at Ron as anything else, Harry suspected.

“Catalogue shopping,” answered Tonks with a beaming smile, “Harry’s buying me a whole new wardrobe, aren’t you Harry?”

Harry shrugged, “Well, the Black family is buying you a whole new wardrobe, but yeah.”

“Must be nice to have _two_ fortunes to spend,” commented Ron, resentfully.

“Yeah, it’s so cool they way everyone I love keeps getting killed,” Harry replied angrily, “I’d much rather have their money.”

Ron flushed in embarrassment, but his expression quickly turned angry and he muttered under his breath, “Spoilt git.”

Harry was about to respond when Tonks put a hand on his forearm. He looked at her and she just smiled. It was such a typical Tonks smile, so full of warmth and affection. She’d been smiling like that when she’d undressed for him, when she first kissed him, when she told him to remove her knickers, when she twirled naked for him, when she sat on him last night, and when she was choosing clothes this morning. Harry couldn’t help but laugh. She filled his life with joy. Ron’s petty jealousy was nothing compared to that.

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a look, but Harry ignored them and went back to his soup.

When he finished, Harry took his bowl to the sink just after Hermione, and whispered in her ear, “Can I talk to you in private? It’s important.”

Without looking up, she replied, “Sorry Harry, I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

Harry was totally flummoxed. It had never occurred to him that she’d refuse to even speak to him, “Oh. Oh, right. Yeah, okay. Sorry.”

Feeling a bit numb and rather stupid, he stumbled back up to the bedroom and fell onto the bed.

Tonks closed the door and silenced it. “She’s just upset right now Harry, give her time. She’s got a lot on her plate.”

Harry nodded absent-mindedly, but in his head he was thinking _no she hasn’t_.

What was he going to do now? Hermione was the obvious choice to help with this. Who else cared about elf rights? He couldn’t think of anyone. Some people had signed up to S.P.E.W. but he was pretty sure they only did it because Hermione bullied them into it. He wracked his brains. He doubted anyone in Slytherin would care about elf rights. Nobody in Gryffindor seemed to either, apart from Hermione. That left Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Who did he know in those Houses? Not many people, apart from the Quidditch players and the DA. They didn’t seem like promising candidates, except Cho Chang, maybe? She hadn’t shown any obvious interest in elf rights, but she seemed nice... Wait! There _was_ another obvious person! Luna Lovegood! She was definitely interested in creatures, and she was a Ravenclaw so she was smart. The question was whether she’d think it was right to free the elves, or whether she had some weird belief about it. Had she ever joined S.P.E.W.? Harry wasn’t sure.

“Tonks, I’m just nipping downstairs to ask Hermione something.”

“No problem,” replied Tonks.

She grabbed her wand and preceded him out the door. Harry kept forgetting that Tonks was actually here as his bodyguard. Over the last few days she’d started taking that much more seriously, even inside the house. Harry wasn’t sure why. These days, Tonks only really relaxed when they were alone. Even then, her wand was always close. Harry was half way down the stairs before he realised his own wand was on the nightstand where he’d left it.

Harry knocked on Ginny’s bedroom door. A few seconds later, she poked her head out. She looked at Harry and Tonks curiously, “Yes?”

“Could I have a quick word with Hermione?”

“She’s busy.”

Harry peered through the crack and saw Hermione lying on the bed reading Witch Weekly. Ginny moved to block his view. Harry sighed, “Okay. When she’s done reading that important magazine, could you ask her whether Luna Lovegood ever joined S.P.E.W.? Thanks.”

Harry turned to leave.

“Wait!” Hermione scrambled up and came running to the door, “Why do you want to know that?”

Harry shrugged, “Just curious.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed, “What did you want to talk to me about earlier?”

“Nothing, it’s not important. So... about Luna?”

Hermione folded her arms, “You said it was important earlier.”

“Er... Well that was then. Events have moved on. The situation has changed.”

“What situation?”

Harry was getting frustrated, “Never mind. I’ll just send her an owl.”

He turned to leave again.

Hermione grabbed his arm, “Why do you want to talk to Luna about elves Harry?”

Harry snapped, “It doesn’t matter! You’re too busy. I need someone _now_. Someone I can _rely on_. This is too important to let anyone screw it up. I have a _responsibility_. Don’t you understand? They’re relying on me! Unlike _some_ , I can’t afford to lie around all day reading magazines. It could be a thousand years before we get another shot at this! Go back to your magazine, Hermione. I have people I need to talk to.”

He whirled and stalked off angrily.

Hermione ran after him, “Harry! Harry, wait!”

He ignored her.

“Harry! Please! Harry! Harry!” Her voice rose in desperation, “ _HARRY! SHE DIDN’T JOIN._ ”

Harry stopped in his tracks. He turned slowly, “She didn’t join? _Why?_ ”

Hermione was panting, “She said the elves are happy, and that’s all that matters.”

Harry slumped, “Damn it.”

Hermione went to touch his arm, but thought better of it. “Harry, let me help. If it’s about the elves, I want to help.”

Harry shook his head, “No. I can’t trust you. You’re unreliable. I’ll have to handle it myself, after the war.”

Hermione looked deeply hurt, but asked, “Handle what?”

He ground his teeth in frustration, “ _The elves of course! I know how to break their enslavement!_ ”

Hermione gasped, but Harry was talking to himself now, staring sightlessly at the floor, “It won’t be easy and I can’t do it now. I’m fighting a war. There’s too much going on...”

He looked up suddenly, “I’ve written you a letter. If I don’t make it... if I die... the letter will tell you what to do.”

The colour drained from her face.

Harry grabbed her arms, his eyes boring into hers, “Listen, Hermione! This is important. Dobby is the key! You understand? He’s the key! If I die, find Dobby. You must protect Dobby! They can’t be saved without him.”

Harry whirled and was gone, leaving a thoroughly dismayed Hermione behind him.

Tonks raced after Harry. Once they were back in their room she locked and silenced the door, then blew out a heavy breath.

“Wow. That girl is _not_ having a good week. Come on, Harry, time for an _Occlumency_ lesson. This is a perfect opportunity to see how well you can perform when you’re upset.”

The answer, it turned out, was not very well. Harry’s mind was an uncontrollable maelstrom. Frustration and dark angry thoughts shattered his concentration and destroyed his inner peace. All the setbacks of his short and unhappy life boiled up, filling him with bitterness. Ron and Hermione had helped him get through the last four years, but now they were worse than useless – they were actively trying to _hinder_ his efforts. His task was hard enough without them making it harder! The only person he could rely on these days was Tonks, but how long would she be around? When he returned to Hogwarts she’d probably be reassigned and he’d be all alone... again. Because of course he was Harry Potter, and nothing good in his life ever lasted.

When they finally gave up Harry was too annoyed with himself to ask why Tonks looked so pale and upset.

\- § -

“Harry, where’s your wand?” asked Tonks the following morning.

Harry was sitting on the floor in his pyjamas doing his _Occlumency_ exercises. He jerked guiltily, “It’s right here...”

He frantically scanned his immediate environment with his eyes. Where was the damned thing?

Tonks coughed, “Ahem.” She was standing by the door in just his Gryffindor t-shirt, holding his wand in her hand and wiggling it from side to side. “Are you looking for this?”

Harry scowled.

“Do we need to have another conversation about keeping your wand close?”

“No,” said Harry grumpily.

“Good,” she replied and threw his wand to him. “I’m going to the loo. You know the drill – don’t let anyone in!”

She waited to see if he’d give her any cheek, but Harry knew better than that after the lecture he’d received last night.

“Right,” she left the room and locked the door with a _coloportus_ behind her.

Harry returned to his _Occulmency_ exercises, but Tonks returned almost immediately.

She looked surprised to see him still sitting in the middle of the floor.

“Harry, before I forget, I was thinking that you should tell Hermione how to free the elves. It’s such an important thing... we don’t want to risk your letter not reaching her. It just makes more sense for two people to have that knowledge.”

Harry sighed. “I don’t know, Tonks...”

He decided he’d done enough exercises and may as well get ready for his shower.

“You know what Hermione’s like”, he said as he stripped off his pyjama top. Tonks gave him an odd look. “You know what I’m talking about! She’ll go rushing in without thinking of the consequences.” He threw his top on the bed and pulled off his pyjama trousers. He threw them on the bed and stood naked in front of her.

Tonks’ eyes bugged out of her head.

Harry smirked in satisfaction. It made a nice change for Tonks to be the one getting flustered.

Tonks seemed to choke for a moment, staring very obviously at his cock and going red in the face. “ _I don’t_... um, I don’t... think Hermione would do that,” she squeaked.

Harry decided it was time to give Tonks a dose of her own medicine. He bent over to grab his towel, deliberately giving her a long look at his arse. He heard an involuntary squeak from her and grinned widely. Her reaction was turning him on. He kept his back to her as his erection grew to full size. “Sure she would,” he continued, “She’d go ahead and free them all at once, with no thought to the consequences.”

He turned back round to face her, and his massive erection came into view. Tonks screamed, and then slapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes had grown to the size of saucers and were locked on his throbbing penis. Harry behaved like there was nothing special going on, just like Tonks did when she was toying with him.

“Is something wrong, Tonks?” he said with a straight face.

“No, no everything’s fine,” she squeaked. Harry walked over to her. Her eyes followed his dick the entire way. “Glad to hear it,” he said as he wrapped his arms round her and pulled her into a tight hug. His erect penis pressed hard into her stomach. She jerked and made and “Eep” noise.

Harry chuckled. Tonks was so funny sometimes. He let her go and sat on the end of his bed, with his cock standing proud like a flag pole. Tonks was still eyeing it, with a look of shocked fascination. Harry was enjoying her admiration immensely. “No, there’s no way I can tell Hermione now. I’d need to keep a close eye on her and there’s too much going on.”

“Perhaps...” she murmured, “Perhaps you could tell me instead then?”

Harry considered that for a moment. That actually wasn’t a bad idea. He knew Tonks could be trusted not to tell anyone, and not to do anything crazy. He was about to say so when there were two loud thumps somewhere downstairs.

Tonks looked around in alarm, “Actually, never mind. Forget I mentioned it. I better go see what that noise was.” She practically ran from the room.

A few seconds later she came back, frowning. “That was very weird.”

“What was?”

“The toilet was locked so I had to go downstairs. When I came out Ginny cornered me to talk about fashion!”

Harry was confused. “Huh?”

“Exactly! Very odd – since when does Ginny talk about _fashion?_ ”

“What was the banging noise?”

“That was odd too! As I left she stamped twice on the floor, really hard. She said she had a cramp.”

Harry didn’t know what to make of that, so he asked, “Do you still want to know about the elves?”

Now Tonks looked confused, “What?”

“The elves. I think you’re right – it would be a good idea to tell you.”

“Harry, what on earth are you talking about?”

“The elves! You just asked me about them... literally ten seconds ago.”

“Harry I was downstairs ten seconds ago.”

“Well, fifteen seconds then. Whatever.”

Tonks stared at him. “I was downstairs fifteen seconds ago too.”

An angry frown spread across her face. “Harry, after I left to go to the loo, how long was I gone?”

Now Harry was confused again, “You came straight back.”

Tonks pursed her lips and started pacing the room furiously. “ _I don’t believe this! That sly little minx!_ ” She whirled on Harry, “Tell me _exactly_ what happened from the moment I left to go to the toilet.”

“Tonks, what’s going on? Why are you being so weird?”

“Just indulge me Harry. All will become clear. I threw your wand to you and left the room... then what?”

“You came back almost immediately and told me I should tell Hermione how to free the elves. I said I didn’t think that was a good idea, so you said maybe I should tell you instead, which I think _is_ a good idea, but there was a thump downstairs so you went to investigate.”

Tonks shook her head, “ _Unbelievable! Fucking unbelievable!_ ”

“What’s unbelievable?”

“Harry, _that wasn’t me!_ I was downstairs the entire time, talking to Ginny.”

“But... but it _was_ you! Unless...” Harry’s eyes went wide. He grabbed a towel and covered his genitals. He felt sick with mortification.

“It’s a bit late now, Harry, the imposter is gone. Okay, tell me the story again... but this time tell me how you ended up naked and what she did about it.”

Harry started from the beginning, and included every detail he could think of. Tonks listened very carefully, pacing back and forth in front of him. When he was done she summarised, “So basically, as soon as I was out of the room, someone... almost certainly _Hermione_... came in here _polyjuiced_ as me to find out how to free the elves. Thinking she was _me_ you undressed openly, as we do. Instead of looking away, she stared at you the entire time. Is that about right?”

Harry nodded miserably, pulling his pyjamas back on.

Tonks started pacing again, “Oh that little slut! She’s going to pay for this. Let’s see how she likes ten days in the cells!”

Harry balked, “No Tonks! Please don’t do that. I’m sure Hermione didn’t mean to embarrass me. It’s my fault for undressing. Just... just let it go, okay?”

“No I will not let it go! As soon as you started to undress she should have left, or at least turned her back! But no, she got a good eyeful, and kept on looking! You’re mortified, I can tell. This is just the sort of thing I was talking about Harry. You don’t seem to think that you deserve justice. You think it’s okay for people to treat you like crap and go unpunished. Well it’s not! That little strumpet is going to pay.”

Tonks stormed to the door and threw it open. “Come on Harry! And bring your wand dammit!” With Harry in tow, trying to persuade her to drop the whole thing, she stomped down the stairs and thumped loudly on Ginny’s door. “Hermione Granger, get your ass out here!”

Frantic whispering was followed by Ginny shouting, “She’s not well. Come back later.”

“Don’t give me that crap!” shouted Tonks, “You have ten seconds to open this door before I blast it into matchsticks.”

Nine seconds later, Ginny opened the door a crack, “What’s the problem Tonks?”

Tonks shoved the door open, sending Ginny flying. “The problem,” she said, approaching the person-size lump hiding under Hermione’s blankets, “is this!” She yanked the covers off to reveal... another Tonks in a Gryffindor t-shirt curled up on the bed.

Harry gasped, “No! Hermione? _Hermione, how could you?_ ”

Hermione scrambled up, “I’m sorry, Harry! I didn’t mean to! I just... I just wanted to help the elves!”

“Help yourself to an eyeful of Harry, you mean,” accused Tonks.

“It wasn’t my fault he got undressed!” insisted Hermione, while Ginny’s mouth dropped open.

“Maybe not, but it was your fault you _kept on looking_! Didn’t _leave_ , do you? Didn’t _turn around_ or look out the window. No, you got a good long look didn’t you? Never took your eyes off him, from what I hear. I bet you memorised every little detail to enjoy later in the shower, didn’t you, you little trollop!”

Hermione was aghast, “No! It wasn’t... I didn’t mean...”

“Well, what you _meant_ is irrelevant isn’t it? The fact is that you _looked_. You know that Harry’s _mine_ , but you looked anyway. That’s bad enough, but do you know what else you did? You used _polyjuice_ to impersonate an _Auror_.”

Hermione’s eyes went suddenly wide in alarm.

“Didn’t think of _that_ , did you?” Tonks grinned evilly, “How very unfortunate. Do you know what the penalty is for that?”

Hermione shook her head in terror.

Tonks leaned forward, until she was inches from Hermione’s face, “ _Two years in Azkaban._ ”

Hermione’s hands went to her mouth and she staggered backwards until she hit the wall.

Ginny was appalled, “You can’t throw Hermione into Azkaban!”

Tonks rounded on her, “Oh really? Sadly for you, _the law_ _says I can_.”

Harry intervened, “Tonks, no. Hermione doesn’t deserve Azkaban for this. She doesn’t deserve anything. It was an accident. Let’s just go, okay?”

“Harry, if you blushed any brighter you’d be glowing in the dark. You deserve justice and I’m going to make sure you get it.” She turned back to Hermione. “I’m willing to overlook you impersonating and Auror if you’re willing to compensate Harry for the embarrassment you’ve caused.”

“What... what does that mean? Compensate how?”

“Well, I would have thought that was obvious,” replied Tonks, “you had a good long look at Harry naked, so Harry should get a good long look at you naked.”

“ _WHAT!?!?_ ” shrieked Hermione and Ginny at the same time.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	15. The Three Grangers

Tonks shrugged, “It’s up to you Hermione – either you do a striptease for Harry, or you go to Azkaban – your choice.”

“ _That’s outrageous!_ ” Hermione screeched indignantly, “I am not going to do a striptease!”

Tonks laughed, “Well of course not! Not right now, when you’re in my body. You’re going to strip when you’re back in your own body.” She started wandering round the room, picking up Hermione’s stuff and looking at it, “We can wait, can’t we Harry? Ooo, this is a nice picture frame, where did you get this?”

“Put that down! I am _not_ going to strip and that’s final!”

“Oh, so you choose Azkaban then?” asked Tonks, picking up a jewellery box and looking inside. “You won’t need these earrings in Azkaban, can I have them?”

Hermione leapt across the room and grabbed the box from her hand, “No! Leave my stuff alone!”

“ _Oh I’m sorry_ ,” replied Tonks sarcastically, “am I invading your privacy? Not very nice when someone does that, is it?”

Harry stared at the whole spectacle in confusion. It was really weird watching two Tonks’s arguing with each other. He glanced at Ginny, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. It was hard to keep your mind focussed on the fact that one of them was Hermione.

Tonks pulled open Hermione’s underwear drawer, “Oooo, nice!” She grabbed a pair of quite skimpy white knickers and held them up, spread between her hands, “Shall we get Hermione to wear these when she does her strip, Harry?”

Hermione howled and snatched them from her, “ _Get out!_ ”

Harry grabbed Tonks by the arm and dragged her towards the door, “Come on Tonks. I don’t want Hermione to strip for me. That wouldn’t be right. Come on, let’s just go.”

Tonks was manhandled out the door, but shouted over her shoulder, “ _This isn’t over missy! Harry deserves justice! Nobody messes with Harry anymore! You hear me? Nobody!_ ”

Once they were back in their room, Tonks collapsed onto the bed and guffawed. “Oh that was priceless! Hermione is without doubt my favourite person to tease. It’s just so rewarding to burst that haughty little bubble of hers.”

“You mean you weren’t serious down there?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Of course not!” Tonks snorted. “As if I’d send her to Azkaban!”

“About the stripping, I mean?” Harry clarified.

“Oh, well, I was serious about that, yeah. If mean if she’d agreed willingly, then sure I’d have let her. Why not? But I knew she wouldn’t and I’d never have forced her. Gave her a fright though, didn’t I?”

Tonks had a good long laugh, and then lay on her back giggling occasionally. Harry was grudgingly impressed. She’d really had him going there – he’d genuinely thought Tonks was serious.

“You know,” the pink-haired girl said eventually, “the one good thing to come out of this is that we now know that those two couldn’t plot their way out of a paper bag. Not a shred of cunning between them. No wonder they’re in Gryffindor. Anyway, that’s enough of that. I’m going to call Winky. I need to order some stuff. Do you want anything?”

“No I’m fine,” Harry replied.

“A whole new wardrobe, you say?”

“No I said I’m fine.”

“You don’t want to dress like a homeless person any more, you say?”

Harry glared at her, “I do not look like a homeless person.”

“That’s true,” she conceded, “because a homeless person would be too embarrassed to wear the shabby crap you wear.”

Harry scowled but she ignored him, “I’ll just get you a few things... Now why don’t you do some more _Occlumency_ exercises? You look like you need it.”

Harry huffed, but he definitely needed to do _something_ to take his mind off the fact that he’d done a striptease for Hermione.

So he sat on the floor trying to find his calm place while Tonks whispered her order to Winky, who was wearing a neat little black skirt and blouse with a matching black hat. Everyone was getting a new wardrobe, it seemed, and apparently being a house elf for the House of Potter-Black now meant wearing black. Harry had been expecting garish colours like Dobby wore, so the rather dour ensemble was a surprise. He wondered if Winky had chosen it herself in deference to her new family’s dark history, or perhaps Dobby was taking his supervisory responsibilities rather seriously...

Maybe an hour later, Harry had run though all his exercises three times and was very pleased with how it was going. He opened his eyes to find Tonks sitting facing him.

She smiled, “Wotcha Harry. Where’s your wand?”

Harry groaned. It was on the nightstand where he’d left it. Damn it! That habit was really hard to break.

Tonks shook her head sadly, “Harry, Harry, Harry. Not within reach is it? I think perhaps we need to start using negative reinforcement – every time you misplace your wand I’ll do something you won’t like... starting right now!”

Her wand whipped up in front of his chest, “ _Petrificus Totalus_.”

Harry froze as stiff as a board.

Tonks reached behind her, and then held a bottle up in front of his eyes. “Do you know what this is Harry?”

He did but he couldn’t speak.

“It’s _polyjuice_ potion,” Tonks replied to her own question, “which Winky just acquired for me.”

She reached behind her back again and brought out a hair brush.

“And _this_ is Hermione’s hair brush, which I stole while I was snooping through her stuff. Now I know what you’re thinking. I’m a _Metamorphmagus_ , why would I need _polyjuice_ potion.” She pulled one of Hermione’s long brown hairs from the brush. “Well, there are two reasons. First I can only copy what I can see, so I can copy Hermione’s face, but I’ve never seen her naked so I can’t copy her body. Second, this isn’t for me, it’s for you.”

She carefully dropped the hair into the potion and watched it bubble. All at once the muddy-brown liquid inside turned a vivid blue with copper-coloured sparkles.

“Mmm... smells of strawberry and roses,” Tonks observed. “Interesting...”

She stood up and walked around behind him. “I know you’d never take this voluntarily, and I also want to teach you a lesson about forgetting your wand, so why not achieve two punishments with one potion, eh?”

Tonks gently tipped his rigidly cross-legged body backwards, poured the liquid down his throat, and massaged his neck until it went down. She pushed him back upright.

“Good boy! All done!”

She cancelled the binding curse and Harry collapsed onto the floor coughing and spluttering.

“Sorry about that Harry, but you’re too forgiving. Hermione needs to be punished and you’re too nice to do it. We need to make her think twice about messing with you.”

Harry writhed on the floor as the transformation took hold. He knew there was no point fighting it – the potion would run its course no matter what. At least it tasted better this time. Goyle’s potion had looked like bogies and had a distinct flavour of overcooked cabbage. Hermione’s was like sweetened strawberries. A minute later Harry looked down and found a very feminine set of arms sticking out of his pyjama top. He rushed to the mirror and sure enough, Hermione’s face was staring back at him. He had to grab his trousers to stop them falling off.

Tonks grinned, “Let’s have a look at you then.” Harry thought she meant for him to twirl, but no. She banished his pyjamas, leaving him stark naked in front of the mirror.

Harry gaped at Hermione’s naked reflection, and then whirled around, “ _Tonks!_ ”

Tonks laughed, “I know! She’s got quite the figure hasn’t she? Dunno why she hides it under all those frumpy clothes.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Well, you can’t even see it now you’ve turned away from the mirror. Honestly Harry, you must be the only teenage boy in the world who’d do that. Even Hermione didn’t do that and she’s practically a nun.” Tonks thought for a moment, “Actually, maybe that’s the problem – she’s sexually repressed. I bet she never even pets the kitty.”

“What does Crookshanks have to do with it?” Harry replied, mystified.

Tonks rolled her eyes, “I didn’t mean petting the _actual_ kitty, you prat. Sheesh, you're as clueless as Hermione. I meant... you know... flicking the bean, butterin the muffin, beating the beaver, polishing the pearl, rubbin the nubbin...”

“Yes yes okay! I get it!” Harry interrupted, his cheeks heating in embarrassment.

Harry was finding the conversation very uncomfortable, and also didn’t know where to put his hands. He tried crossing his arms, but that just made him accidentally feel-up Hermione’s boobs. He put his hands on his hips, _her_ hips... but that felt too intimate. He waved them about self-consciously, and then put them behind his head... but that just made his boobs lift up. Her boobs.

He looked down at them without thinking, “Gah!”

He’d just seen Hermione’s breasts! He looked away quickly.

Tonks guffawed, but Harry was too distracted to notice. He’d just realised he was naked from the waist-down too. He slapped both hands over Hermione’s private parts to cover them up, then realised he’d just put his hands on her pussy and squealed.

Tonks was rolling around on her bed, howling in laughter, “Oh Harry, you’re hilarious. Turn round if you don’t want me to see.”

Harry spun around and got another eye full of Hermione’s naked body in the mirror. With a yelp he jumped to the side and whirled to glare at Tonks, who was in even more hysterics.

She had tears running down her face and was clutching at her stomach, “Oh God stop, you’re killing me! I can’t breathe! My sides! Ow! Ow! I’m getting a stitch!”

Harry decided his hips were the safest place for his hands and he gave Tonks a very disapproving look, which sent her into another bout of hilarity.

“That’s it!” Tonks howled in delight. “That’s exactly the expression Hermione would pull!”

Harry gave up trying to scold Tonks and went to his trunk for some clothes. Naturally, everything was too big. He grabbed a t-shirt and turned around to find Tonks standing naked in front of him.

“Thanks Harry,” Tonks drawled, “I got a good look at Hermione’s body while you were leaping around like a lunatic. I’ve got her memorised now.”

Her features and her body began to change, and in a matter of seconds Harry found himself facing another naked Hermione. He froze in shock, staring at Hermione’s fabulously nude body. She was gorgeous! Absolutely gorgeous! Oh sweet Merlin, Harry groaned, what would his sordid fantasies be like _now_? A deeply depraved image formed in his head and he blushed furiously.

“I thought you couldn’t change any more?” he said, trying to avert his eyes.

“I can, it just takes a huge amount of effort,” she explained. “I’ll be tired later, but I think I can hold it long enough to punish that little trollop downstairs. I did a good job, don’t you think?”

Tonks waggled Hermione’s boobs at him. Oh God they looked amazing! Harry closed his eyes.

“Ah ah aaaah!” Tonks scolded. “No closing your eyes Harry. This is Hermione’s punishment.”

Harry steadfastly refused to open his eyes, but Tonks shoved him backwards. He fell onto the bed and Tonks leapt on top of him. His eyes opened by reflex but he immediately closed them again. Unfortunately the image of Hermione kneeling naked over him had burned itself into his retinas.

Tonks leant forwards and started brushing Hermione’s boobs across his face. “Open your eyes Harry!”

Oh God. Hermione’s boobs felt amazing! The super-soft skin of her breasts brushed across his cheek, followed by her even softer silky-smooth areolas. At their centre the firm bud of her nipple skimmed along his lips, pushing them apart. Sweet Merlin, he was kissing Hermione’s nipples! The urge to nibble them swept over him. He repressed it and groaned loudly.

“Oh you like that?” Tonks giggled. “Then keep your eyes shut and I’ll keep rubbing Hermione’s tits on your face.”

Harry’s eyes snapped open.

Tonks laughed, “Good grief Harry, you’re such a boy scout!”

Hermione’s boobs were still right in his face so he couldn’t avoid looking at them. They were smaller than Tonks’, and were more teardrop-shaped. Despite their smaller size, they weren’t as firm as Tonks’ so they bounced a lot more. Harry wasn’t at all against that – from where he was looking up at her, the bouncing made him imagine Hermione was riding up and down on his... Harry shook that image from his head, desperately hoping that his _Occlumency_ practice had improved his ability to shield his thoughts.

“I got a really good look at Hermione’s ‘Lady Garden’ when you fell over,” Tonks told him with a grin. “It’s the one thing I couldn’t see earlier. Well, I’ve got it now, and let me tell you... it’s pretty fucking gorgeous. Seriously, this girl has got it going on down here. I’ve never really been a cooch connoisseur myself, but I’d make an exception for this one. It’s like the Mona Lisa of minge.”

Abruptly she pulled back, “That’s enough recon. It’s time to finish this.”

Harry got a very close-up view of Hermione’s pussy as Tonks clambered off him.

Tonks was right, it was glorious! Harry’s experience was rather limited, of course. In fact he’d only seen two, but Hermione’s pussy was very different from Tonks’. Hermione had the same beautifully curved mound and slim legs, but a much more elaborate entrance. Most obvious was that her inner pussy lips were larger and swept outward in graceful curves for form two handy tags you could grasp onto to open her up. Harry almost laughed at how very _Hermione_ it was to have a pussy designed for convenience. He could see that each of her labia was actually comprised of a convoluted set of velvety skin folds. At the top Hermione had a large hood covering a dome-shaped bud. Either side of her inner lips was another set of outer lips enclosing the whole of her pussy in an almond-shaped frame. A light brown fuzz of well-groomed pubic hair lined her pussy and rose over her mound to form a neat triangle. Apart from the immaculately groomed pubic hair, her pussy was fabulously ornate – delightfully shapely and complex in a way that suggested that an intensely _sexual_ person was hiding under Hermione’s carefully-controlled facade. Harry wondered how it would feel wrapped around his... Again he shook that image away. Hermione was his friend!

Somewhere far away, Tonks was speaking with Hermione’s voice, “What do you think, Harry? She’s rockin’ one sexy little snatch down there isn’t she? Who’d have guessed, eh? It’s always the quiet ones...”

Tonks started grabbing clothes from her wardrobe and throwing them at him, “Come on Harry, we need to complete the punishment before we get too distracted. Put those on. We won’t bother with knickers. They’ll just get ruined since we’re both sopping already. Seriously, Hermione’s cha cha gets wet at the drop of a hat.”

“Complete the punishment?” Harry repeated, blushing furiously and desperately wishing he hadn’t heard that last bit. “I’ve seen Hermione’s body now. Isn’t that enough?”

“No it’s not,” Tonks replied firmly. “It’s not a punishment if Hermione doesn’t know about it. And anyway there’s one other thing we need to address.”

“There is?” Harry wondered.

“Yes. Hermione saw how big you are Harry. That’s a very personal thing. We need to do something about that.”

“How big...? Oh you mean... I don’t think we need to... and anyway how would you...”

“Just leave it to me Harry.”

She passed him a fitted t-shirt that he could only just squeeze into. It showed the shape of Hermione’s boobs quite clearly, especially since his nipples had become rock hard nubs for some reason. The skirt was extremely short and tight. Harry felt around the back and sure enough, Hermione’s butt cheeks were hanging out. Harry felt both exposed and turned on by his lack of underwear, and the fact that he’d just felt up Hermione’s bum didn’t help. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. A very slutty-looking Hermione stared back at him. Tonks put on a loose white shirt, but left three buttons undone so most of her breasts were showing. When she leaned over to step into her skirt, her entire chest was on show. The skirt was thigh-length with lots of pleats. The two together made her look like a slutty St Trinian’s girl.

“Right, come on Harry, let’s go.” Tonks poked her head out the door and listened for movement. Hearing nothing, she trotted barefoot along the corridor and down the stairs. Harry hesitated for a moment, but then followed. He didn’t want to find out what Tonks might get up to without him there to curb her excesses.

Once Harry had caught up, Tonks knocked on Ginny’s door. Ginny opened it a crack and yelped.

“Hello Ginny,” Tonks said in Hermione’s voice. “Could we come in for a moment?”

Numbly, Ginny opened the door. Hermione (once again in her own body) looked up as they entered, and screamed. She leapt from the bed and slammed the door shut behind them.

“ _Oh my God! Please tell me nobody saw you looking like that!_ ”

Tonks chuckled, “Relax, Hermione nobody saw. Well, except Harry here. He’s seen everything, haven’t you Harry?”

All the blood drained from Hermione’s face.

“Now, just so we’re clear,” Tonks said, as she undid the buttons on her shirt, “Harry here had no say in the matter.”

She removed the shirt and dropped it on the ground, leaving herself topless. Before Hermione could even react to the fact that Tonks was flashing her breasts at Harry, Tonks dropped her skirt to the floor. She was now totally naked. _In Hermione’s body!_

Hermione screeched and leapt forward to try to cover Tonks up, but came to an abrupt halt at the end of Tonks’ wand.

“Ah ah aaaah! Don’t spoil everyone’s fun Hermione. I think Harry deserves a good look, like you did with him, don’t you? Back away now. That’s it. Go sit on the bed; you too, Ginny.”

Once the girls were seated, Tonks said “ _Accio wands!_ ”

Two wands sailed into her hand from opposite sides of the room. She put them on the dresser behind her, and then did a little twirl to give Harry a good look at Hermione’s naked body.

“What do you think Harry? Is Hermione gorgeous or what? Check out these breasts!”

Tonks wiggled her shoulders, making Hermione’s boobs fly around wildly.

Hermione whimpered. Her horrified look kept flicking from the naked version of herself to Harry’s clothed version and back again. A look of pure mortification spread across her face. Harry was seeing absolutely everything!

“So, as I was saying,” Tonks continued, “I put Harry in a body bind and forced the _polyjuice_ down his throat. Harry’s much too nice to do something like this voluntarily. But I’m not. So, here we are! And as you can all see, Hermione has a _rocking_ body. She should show it off more! Wouldn’t you agree, Harry?”

Harry wasn’t sure how to answer that without getting himself into trouble, so he said nothing.

“Oh he’s gone all shy. I think he’s a bit overwhelmed at having boobs and a pussy. He’ll get used to it. He’s going to be like this for an hour after all. He’ll know Hermione’s body like the back of his hand by the end of it.”

Hermione whimpered again, “Oh God.”

“I must say, I’m absolutely _loving_ your arse Hermione. What do you think Harry? Would you ever tire of spanking it?”

Tonks turned round and slapped herself on the bum to illustrate. She grinned at Hermione’s appalled expression.

“Oh look, Hermione has a beauty spot on her right butt cheek!” Tonks twisted and pointed to show them all. “And there’s another one just here,” she lifted her leg to show her inner thigh and indicated a point just a few inches from Hermione’s pussy... the same pussy that she was now displaying to the whole room.

“Nice job keeping it so well trimmed down there by the way,” Tonks continued sweetly. “Very neat.”

Hermione looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

“Oh, and congrats on still having the v-card,” Tonks added.

Hermione’s cheeks went bright scarlet.

Harry frowned. From what Tonks had said, she could only copy what she could _see_ , so how could she possibly know that Hermione was still a virgin? Once she'd seen a body part could she copy it inside and out? Or had that been a guess, based on knowing Hermione... which Hermione had unwittingly confirmed?

“The first time should be special”, Tonks advised. “Wait for someone nice like Harry. He’d be very gentle. He might be a bit big for you though. You’re quite small on the inside aren’t you?”

Hermione slapped her hands over her mouth in horror. Harry stared at Tonks. Had that been another guess? It had clearly hit home, but she couldn't possibly know that unless she was reproducing Hermione inside too. Also, hadn't she said something about Hermione's cha cha getting wet at the drop of a hat? She must be able to copy everything then, including all the ‘plumbing’. Harry glanced at Ginny. For some reason she was giving him a very odd look. Was it the comment about him being quite big, he wondered self-consciously?

Tonks grinned, “Right, I just have a couple of security checks to perform then we’ll leave you girls to enjoy your evening.” She twirled her wand, “ _Accio Tonks’ hair_.” A small white envelope flew from the dresser into Tonks’ hand. “From the shower, I presume?”

Hermione nodded, staring at the floor in mortified defeat.

“I guess I’ll need to be more careful in future.” She twirled her wand again, “ _Accio Harry’s hair_.” Nothing happened.

“ _Accio polyjuice._ ” Nothing happened.

“Ok, good. If I catch you two making or buying _polyjuice_ in future you’ll spend a week in the cells.”

Tonks’ expression turned suddenly serious, “Now you two may be thinking that this punishment exceeds your crime, and that you should seek some payback for it. I would strongly advise you against it. Firstly because I have some of Ginny’s hair too so I can turn Harry into either one of you whenever I like. Or I can turn myself into either one of you. You _do not_ want to know what I might do with that. Secondly I _will_ throw you in the cells if you try literally _anything_.”

Tonks grabbed her shirt off the floor, giving Harry a fantastic view of Hermione’s arse and making Hermione groan. She buttoned it up, and then pulled on her skirt. Bizarrely, Harry found the sight of naked Hermione getting dressed just as erotic as her getting _undressed_.

“One other thing” Tonks added. “Do not mention our little _polyjuice war_ to anyone, unless you want to give Ron ideas,” the girls both blanched at that, “ _and_ spend two years in Azkaban.”

Tonks became suddenly menacing, “Seriously, this was embarrassing for you Hermione, but that’s all. If you take it further, the gloves will come off.”

Harry’s eyes went wide. If this was what Tonks did when the gloves were on...

Judging by their expressions, Hermione and Ginny seemed to be thinking the same thing.

Tonks eyed the girls’ terrified faces, and nodded, “Okay, I think we understand each other. Good night, ladies.”

As she passed Hermione, Harry heard her lean over and whisper, “Don’t waste your cherry on a douche-bag like Ron. He’ll never make you orgasm like you should. See Harry and me instead. We’ll treat you right.”

Hermione froze in shock.

“Come on Harry,” Tonks continued cheerily. “Let’s go have some fun with Hermione’s body. She’s super-sensitive just about everywhere, it’s awesome! I want to see if you can make her orgasm just by kissing her tits. Then you can go down on her. I should warn you though – she’s already so wet down there that you might need a snorkel...”

Hermione’s eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted dead away, landing unconscious on the bed.

Tonks peered down at her, “Huh. I guess we’re done.”

Harry and Tonks snuck out and managed to get back to their room without being spotted. Harry was tremendously grateful for that, because there was absolutely no way to explain what they were up to. It did make him wonder though – how come they always bumped into someone when they came out of the shower? Was Tonks deliberately timing their exit to wind up the others?

“I think that went well,” Tonks grinned, as she locked and silenced the door. She morphed back into herself and began changing into pyjamas. “I doubt they’ll mess with you again anytime soon.”

“You don’t want to play with Hermione’s body?” Harry asked in relief, because he wasn't sure how he'd feel about that.

“Nah,” Tonks replied. “Tempting though that would be... we probably shouldn’t. I think we took it far enough. Feel free to fondle the one you’re in though. I won’t tell.” She winked.

Harry cringed and shook his head, “Feel myself up? No thanks. And it wouldn’t be right.”

Tonks shrugged, “Suit yourself... Saint Harry.”

Harry scowled but didn’t reply. He certainly wasn’t a saint. He stripped the t-shirt and skirt off, and caught sight of Hermione’s body in the mirror. She really did have a great figure, he observed covertly. Fabulous legs, amazing boobs, awesome bum, lovely hips, and her um... _Lady Garden_ was really special...

Behind him Tonks chuckled, “Not entirely saintly it seems...”

Harry jumped guiltily.

Tonks snorted, “Don’t worry Harry – there's no harm in admiring something beautiful.”

“Erm... well anyway...” he muttered, desperate to change the subject, “you’re right, teasing Hermione is super fun.”

“Isn’t it though?” Tonks agreed. “It’s like she’s got ‘please tease me’ written on her forehead.” Tonks tipped her head to one side in thought. “You know what? Hermione’s got that whole ‘respect for authority’ thing going on... so I bet she’s a closet sub.”

Harry was baffled, “What’s a sub?”

“ _Oh Harry_ ,” Tonks laughed, patting him on the cheek, “You’re so sweet. I could cry for you.”

Later, as Harry drifted off to sleep, he thought back over the events of the day. There was a lot to take in, that was for sure. He certainly hadn’t objected to all the nudity. That was awesome. There was one thing that puzzled him though. When Tonks was shouting at Hermione she’d said, ‘You know Harry’s _mine_ ’. Harry wondered what Tonks had meant by that.

Harry was hers to protect, presumably?

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Chapter 4 of Deathly Hallows (“The Seven Potters”), Hermione and Fleur take polyjuice potion to turn into Harry. One has to wonder what they were thinking when they suddenly had Harry’s body... and hence Harry’s dangly bits? Hermione commented on his poor eyesight, but surely that wasn’t the only thing on her mind? :-O


	16. Sweet Sixteen

At breakfast the next day, Hermione refused to look anyone in the eye. Mrs Weasley bustled around filling their plates, oblivious to the slightly tense atmosphere. Mr Weasley, Bill and Fleur all left for work leaving Harry alone with the girls. Ron was having his customary lie-in.

Tonks spoke up brightly, “Morning Hermione, how are you today?”

Hermione mumbled without looking up, “Fine thank you.”

“Jolly good,” replied Tonks.

Silence reigned for several minutes as everyone focussed on their food.

Just as Hermione seemed to be relaxing a bit Tonks spoke again, “Sweet dreams, I hope?”

Hermione blushed furiously and looked away. So did Ginny. Tonks smirked and continued buttering her toast innocently.

The rest of the meal passed in awkward silence.

“What that was about?” Harry asked on the way back up to their room.

“Just a stab in the dark,” Tonks replied. “I was wondering if Hermione had any saucy dreams after all our fun yesterday. Apparently she did... and so did Ginny.”

\- § -

The next ten days went by in a blur. Harry threw himself back into his _Occlumency_ training. He was angry at himself for his poor performance under stress and was determine to do better. He and Tonks spent almost all day every day in their room, or outside training. Tonks had delighted Winky with a truly gargantuan clothes order, and was now changing into several new outfits each day. Her repertoire seemed to have broadened immensely, and now encompassed lots of different styles. She looked incredible in everything she wore. Even better, Harry got a private viewing every time. Several times a day, she’d strip naked and try on different outfits until she was happy with her selection. Harry had never had so many boners in his entire life.

Fleur absolutely loved Tonks’ new clothes. She’d often spend an entire meal talking to Tonks about fashion and designers. Tonks knew nothing about any of that of course, but she had a real eye for how to construct an outfit.

The way Tonks had dressed in the past, Harry never would have thought she’d be interested in fashion, but now that he thought about it he realised his mistake. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about fashion... it was that she’s chosen one specific look and stuck to it – the tough girl look. Everything she wore was a variation on that style, but it had been carefully selected to send a clear message – that she wasn’t someone to mess with. It was a defence mechanism, and although it hadn’t worked very well she probably thought it was better than nothing. Apparently Tonks no longer felt the need for such ‘armour’ and was embracing her new-found fashion freedom. Harry wondered if her new body had affected her more than just superficially and she was somehow re-living her teenage years?

In response to Tonks’ new look, Fleur had also upped her game. Harry suspected she’d been dressing more conservatively to keep Ron under control, but now that Tonks was out-shining her she’d abandoned that policy. She began wearing much more flattering and sexy clothes, and looked truly spectacular. Ron was reduced to a drooling idiot on more than one occasion.

Bizarrely, Hermione seemed to give up entirely, image-wise, and became more scruffy and bushy-haired every day.

Harry himself was also subjected to a fashion make-over, much against his will. Tonks’ offer to ‘order him a few things’ turned out to mean more clothes than Harry had ever seen in one place. Shortly after Winky delivered Harry’s new clothes his old ones mysteriously vanished, leaving him no choice about what to wear. Harry was so accustomed to wearing Dudley’s old cast-offs that he didn’t even notice how baggy and scruffy they were. But he did reluctantly admit that he looked much smarter now, and he caught the girls shooting him appraising glances when they thought he wasn’t looking.

Not everyone was happy though.

Ron had a huge row with Harry for suddenly ‘flaunting his wealth’ and ‘dressing like a ponce’, while Ginny grumbled that sharing a house with Tonks and Fleur was ‘like living on a bloody catwalk’. Mrs Weasley bemoaned the disappearance of Tonks’ ‘nice girl’ ensemble, and expressed disapproval bordering on outrage at some of the short skirts and low-cut tops that Tonks and Fleur now wore.

Bill seemed to approve whole-heartedly of his fiancée’s sexier look though, and they frequently ‘retired early’ for the night. That caused more grumbling from Ginny, who complained that Bill kept forgetting to put up privacy charms and they could ‘hear stuff’ when they were chatting in Ron’s room. Ginny referred to Fleur as ‘the squealer’ when Mrs Weasley was out of earshot.

Ron rarely spoke at dinner since he was too busy ogling Fleur and Tonks. Quite often he’d completely zone-out during a meal, with his fork half way to his mouth, and a gormless look on his face. Much to Ginny’s disgust, he’d taken to having long showers in the evening as well as the morning. Hearing Fleur’s squealing orgasms every night clearly wasn’t helping Ron deal with his issues.

The only person who was unaffected was Mr Weasley, who was his usual jovial self and gave the impression that he was thoroughly oblivious to everything. Harry had his doubts – there was no way Mr Weasley could be unaware of what was going on, but by pretending not to notice he kept himself out of the firing line. Any other reaction would have made him the target of someone’s ire, so it was actually a very shrewd move. Mr Weasley was a lot smarter than he made out.

Harry hadn’t heard back from Scrimgeour, but the _Daily Prophet_ was full of disappearances, odd accidents, and mysterious deaths. Voldemort and his followers were clearly up to no good. Harry reflected grimly that such news should help them push through some of the more extreme measures he’d suggested. It was a small consolation, but at least it was something.

He was much happier with the way his Defence skills were progressing... until Tonks burst his bubble and said he now fought like a fourteen-year-old girl.

\- § -

Finally, Harry’s sixteenth birthday arrived. He woke to find Tonks kneeling over him in a very skimpy set of pyjama shorts and a tiny top that revealed about six inches of stomach.

“Happy Birthday Harry!” she beamed, then leaned forwards and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

They hadn’t kissed since their first shower together and Harry had forgotten how wonderful her lips felt. Tonks started to pull away, but Harry didn’t want it to end so he grabbed her and pulled down her on top of him. She squealed through their joined lips, and struggled briefly, but then relaxed and kissed him eagerly.

There was something about having her weight on top of him that Harry found enormously erotic.

Eventually he loosened his grip and allowed the kiss to end. Tonks pulled back and slapped him on the shoulder. “Unhand me you brute!” Harry laughed and released his arms. Tonks scrambled from the bed, “You’re a very naughty boy!”

Harry put his hands behind his head and grinned, “Already this is the best birthday ever.”

Tonks pretended to be unhappy with him for a few more seconds, and then grinned. “Okay, you’re forgiven. Come on, we’re late. Everyone will be waiting.”

Sure enough, the whole house was already gathered for breakfast. “Happy Birthday!” they all shouted as Harry entered.

Well, almost everyone. Ron had a mouth full of food, so he just grunted. Harry was happy to see that Hermione had joined-in despite their recent disagreements, and was giving him a genuine smile. Harry went to take his seat, revealing Tonks behind him in her tiny nightwear. Mrs Weasley scowled in disapproval but visibly restrained herself from commenting.

Mr Weasley, Bill and Fleur would be heading to work soon, so they gave Harry his presents first. Hermione and Ginny went next. The present from Hermione was neatly wrapped as always, with a tag that said:

_To Harry,_  
_Happy Birthday,_  
_Love from Hermione. x_

Squeezed underneath, in much smaller letters so it would fit, she’d added ‘ _and Ron_ ’. Harry raised an eyebrow at her. Ron had clearly either forgotten to buy a present or couldn’t be bothered, and Hermione was trying to cover for him. She blushed and looked down at the floor. Hagrid and Dobby had sent presents though, which cheered Harry up.

Everyone’s gifts were the usual mix of Quidditch-related stuff, study-related stuff, or sweets... except for Dobby who’d made him another pair of brightly coloured socks. (It seemed that Dobby shared Dumbledore’s view that you could never have too many socks.) Harry was more than happy with his selection of presents – it was nice to receive anything at all really. The Dursleys had clearly forgotten again, since they sent nothing. Harry thanked everyone with genuine gratitude.

Tonks gave him her present last. Harry wasn’t actually expecting anything from her – he’d thought her kiss this morning was his present. It was a small cube wrapped in gold paper. He unwrapped it to find a black leather box inside with a hinged lid. Lifting the top revealed a classic and expensive-looking gold wrist watch. Harry removed it and admired the stylish design. This would go perfectly with his new look! Engraved on the back he found an inscription:

_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._

“It belonged to Charlus Potter,” Tonks explained. “I think he was your Great Great Grand Uncle. Most likely he was given this watch by his father, your Great Great Great Grandfather. Charlus married Dorea Black, who was actually my Great Grand Aunt. They had a son, but he died childless when he was quite young. Charlus Potter died before Dorea, so his estate fell to her, and her estate was absorbed into the Black family estate when she passed away. I asked Kreacher to see if there was anything left in the Black Family vault, and he found this watch.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. Apart from the Invisibility Cloak, he’d never held anything that belonged to an ancestor. A massive lump grew in his throat and threatened to choke him.

“I... I...”

His voice broke and he simply grabbed Tonks in a fierce hug.

Along with the photo album that Hagrid had given him years ago, it was quite simply the best present he’d ever received. There were no words to express his gratitude. Eventually Harry became conscious that everyone was staring at him, so he sniffed and pulled away, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

“Thank you Tonks. Would you... Would you thank Kreacher for me?”

Tonks smiled and nodded, “Of course.”

Harry looked round the table, “Sorry everyone – I didn’t mean to lose it there.”

Most of them were smiling at him, except Hermione who was wiping tears from her eyes, Ron who looked indifferent, and Mrs Weasley who seemed rather annoyed.

“It’s _traditional_ ,” said Mrs Weasley waspishly, “to give a watch when a wizard _comes of age_.”

Tonks grinned at her sweetly, “Yes I know.”

With a huff Mrs Weasley began serving breakfast.

“So,” Ron asked Tonks pointedly, while chewing his food, “does that mean you and Harry are cousins?”

Harry choked on his toast and had to thump himself on the chest. Cousins! Oh my God! _He’d kissed his cousin! On the lips!_

A massive smirk spread across Ginny’s face and she turned towards Tonks with a distinct air of triumph.

Tonks paled, “Erm... yes I suppose so... but well... everyone’s related in the Wizarding World aren’t they?”

Even she didn’t sound convinced by that argument.

“They’re third cousins once removed,” Hermione stated without looking up, “but they’re not consanguineous.”

“They’re not con-what-now?” Ron replied, inadvertently spitting food in Hermione’s face.

Hermione recoiled and wrinkled her nose in disgust, but Ron was already busy shovelling an entire fried egg into his gaping maw so he didn’t notice.

“Consanguineous,” Hermione repeated, wiping her face with a napkin. “They don’t share any blood relatives. They’re only related by marriage.”

Tonks beamed and wiggled her eyebrows at Harry, “Is that what people mean by ‘kissing cousins’ then?”

Hermione shook her head, “No that’s just a cousin you know well enough to greet with a kiss on the cheek. But some people do mistakenly use the term that way. Of course marrying a cousin isn’t actually illegal in most of Europe. The Royal Families do it all the time.”

“And half the purebloods...” Bill added.

Tonks nudged Harry in the ribs, “What’s up Cuz? Got something you’d like to confess?”

He jumped guiltily and flashed Tonks a betrayed look. _Kissing cousins?_ They were more like _snogging cousins_ after what they’d done earlier.

His cheeks burned, “No! Absolutely not! I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Hermione gave him a piercing look, which he tried very hard to ignore.

“I’m pretty sure that Molly and I are cousins actually,” Mr Weasley offered helpfully.

Bill, Ron and Ginny all gaped at him.

Mrs Weasley was outraged, “We most certainly are _not!_ ”

“I think we are dear,” her husband disagreed calmly. “Your Uncle Ignatius married Lucretia Black. My maternal Grandfather, Arcturus Black the Second was her Great Uncle so that means...”

“That’s not the same thing at all!” Mrs Weasley insisted, sparking a lively debate among the Weasleys about whether their parents were cousins, whether it should be illegal, and whether that accounted for Ron’s eating habits.

Harry was enormously grateful that the spotlight had moved away from him and Tonks, and maintained a very low profile while the redheads argued amongst themselves. After a good ten minutes he noticed that Mr Weasley had also made no further contribution. He was just calmly eating his breakfast, while chaos reigned all around him. When the wily patriarch noticed Harry looking his way, he checked that nobody was watching, and then winked at Harry conspiratorially. Harry goggled.

The debate only ended when a large official-looking owl landed on the window sill. Mrs Weasley opened the window and the owl flapped over to land on the back of Harry’s chair. Attached to its leg was a very official-looking envelope with Harry’s name on the front.

Mrs Weasley bustled over, “Don’t you worry about that, Harry dear. I’ll send it on to Dumbledore. He’ll take care of it.”

She reached for the letter, but pulled up short. Tonks’ wand was at her throat. Everyone froze.

“I’m going to have to ask you to step back, Molly. That letter bears the Ministry seal. If you interfere with it I will be forced to arrest you.”

Mrs Weasley gave Tonks a fierce glare that said she had no intention of backing down. Tonks’ expression hardened. She might have the appearance of a teenage girl with bright pink hair and tiny nightwear, but there was no mistaking the threat in her eyes.

“You have five seconds to comply, Madam. After that you’ll be spending the day in a Ministry holding cell. Five... Four...”

“Step back Molly,” ordered Mr Weasley, calmly. “Auror Tonks is correct. You mustn’t interfere with Ministry communications.”

“Three... Two...”

“ _I SAID STEP BACK MOLLY! DO IT NOW!_ ” Mr Weasley bellowed furiously, smashing his fist on the table.

Everyone jumped, except Tonks, whose unwavering wand followed the swiftly retreating Mrs Weasley.

There was a shocked silence. Nobody had ever heard Mr Weasley shout before.

“Thank you Mr Weasley,” Tonks said calmly. “I apologise for drawing my wand in your home. Rest assured that my report will reflect that you complied with my instructions and no legal action will be necessary.”

Mr Weasley nodded woodenly, “Thank you, Auror Tonks. If you would excuse me, I need a word with my wife.”

Mr Weasley rose from his chair and hissed at Mrs Weasley to follow him. They stepped out of the back door and walked half way down the garden, where Mr Weasley proceeded to go red in the face and scream at his wife for a solid five minutes.

While everyone was watching the drama outside, Harry grabbed the letter and broke the seal. Inside he read:

_DEED OF EMANCIPATION_

_By order of the Minister for Magic_  
_HARRY JAMES POTTER_  
_is hereby declared legally EMANCIPATED._

_As such, he is declared to be an ADULT in every respect,_  
_with all the rights and responsibilities attached thereto._

_Dated: This thirty first day of July, in the year nineteen hundred and ninety six._

_Signed: Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister for Magic._

There followed lots of tiny legalise small-print, overlaid with the large and ornate official seal of the Ministry.

Harry’s expression clouded for a moment, but then he grinned and showed it to Tonks.

“Congratulations Cousin,” she whispered and kissed him on the cheek.

Harry scowled, “Please stop calling me that.”

Everyone else was still crowded around the windows watching Mr Weasley give Mrs Weasley an earful... except Hermione, who was looking at Harry and Tonks. She was clearly desperate to know what the Ministry letter was about, but she no longer had Harry’s confidence. Her eyes glistened as the reality of the situation hit home – _she had been replaced._ It was Tonks that Harry shared his secrets with now, not Hermione.

Harry abruptly rose from his chair, “I need to write to Dumbledore.”

He headed for the stairs. Tonks followed closely behind, levitating all his presents. Hermione’s shining eyes followed them silently as they left, mystified as to what might be going on.

Back in his room, Harry quickly pondered what to write.

Dumbledore had said he would need to return to Privet Drive one more time, after which the Blood Wards (for want of a better term) would fall on his 17th birthday. The Headmaster hadn’t felt it necessary to explain why, but Harry strongly suspected it was something to do with becoming an adult. If so, he’d known that being declared legally emancipated _might_ bring the date forward. But he couldn’t be _sure_ , and the only person who might know was Dumbledore. Harry certainly wasn’t going to ask him, so he’d kept his suspicions to himself.

However, as soon as he read the Ministry letter he felt the change. It was incredibly subtle, and he probably wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been doing so much _Occlumency_ recently, but it was definitely there. It felt like a tiny tug on his mind, almost imperceptible to his senses, had ceased. His connection to Number 4, whatever it was, had been severed.

Harry was exultant. He would never have to step foot inside that dreadful house again! Without the Blood Wards, it was neither necessary nor safe for Harry to go there. Even better, it was neither necessary nor safe for him to _ever see the Dursleys again!_ He was free!

This was, without doubt, his best birthday ever!

Harry rapidly scribbled a letter to Dumbledore. It read simply:

_Headmaster,_  
_The Blood Wards have fallen at Number 4 Privet Drive. I felt it._  
_My relatives are exposed. If you care about their safety, you should move them._  
_I hope you are having a pleasant summer._  
_Best regards, Harry Potter._

Harry had chosen his words carefully. He’d given no indication that he knew what might have caused the wards to fail, but nor did he state that he didn’t. (Dumbledore’s slippery tricks with the truth were clearly starting to rub off on him.) He’d said that Dumbledore should move the Dursleys if he cared about their safety, implying that Harry himself wasn’t bothered either way. That would annoy the Headmaster, as would the flippant pleasantries at the end, but Harry couldn’t help himself – baiting the Headmaster was one of the few ways he could get back at the man who’d consigned him to that hell hole.

As he stood by the open window watching Hedwig disappear into the distance, Harry reflected on how much his life had changed in the last few weeks. His decision to hold Dumbledore accountable for Sirius’ death had changed so much already, and it was only just beginning. He was suddenly buzzing with excitement. Being emancipated was a vital first step, but the Press Conference tomorrow would be when things really started to change.

Until then, Dumbledore would probably have his hands full relocating the Dursleys... who certainly wouldn’t leave without a fight. Harry almost felt sorry for him. Of course when the Headmaster learned of Harry’s emancipation tomorrow he would know that Harry was responsible for the Wards falling, but Harry could simply claim ignorance that his emancipation would have that effect. Dumbledore had never explained the Wards to him, after all. How was Harry to know?

Harry snorted. Using Dumbledore’s secrecy against him felt deliciously fitting.

The question was... would Dumbledore still honour their agreement to make Harry the Head Boy? If he did, Harry’s victory would be all the more satisfying. If not, Dumbledore would lose Harry’s support. It was a lose-lose situation for the Headmaster, which made Harry smirk – after everything the old man had put him through, Harry was very much in the mood to make Dumbledore’s life difficult.

Scrimgeour had suggest they meet at 3pm to discuss tomorrow’s Press Conference, so Tonks spent the rest of the morning teaching Harry some more Auror duelling techniques and spells. By the end of it, she declared that he now fought like a fifteen-year-old girl.

At least he was making progress, Harry reflected.

The Weasley matriarch was nowhere to be seen at lunch time, so they made themselves sandwiches. They showered in plenty of time for their meeting and at 3pm they entered the kitchen to floo to the Minister’s office. Mrs Weasley was back preparing for Harry’s birthday dinner.

She studiously ignored Tonks but gave Harry a warm smile, “Harry dear how’s your birthday going?”

“Great, thank you Mrs Weasley, but the Minister has asked me to pop over to discuss the first Press Conference. Could we use the floo?”

The ginger woman practically glowed with vindictive satisfaction, “OOOOOOH, don’t you worry about that dear! Dumbledore said he’ll get you out of it. Why don’t you go play Quidditch with Ron? You’ve got plenty of time – your birthday party won’t start until six.”

Harry had been expecting this, but he was still taken aback, “We can’t use the floo?”

“No need dear, no need! Dumbledore will take care of everything. Off you go now!”

She practically shoved them out of the kitchen.

Tonks looked extremely cross, “Want me to hex her? Or maybe chuck her in a holding cell for the night?”

Harry laughed, “Tempting, but no. Let’s go back to our room and switch to plan B.”

Plan B was of course to get Dobby to take them to the Ministry Atrium. The elf could probably have taken them straight to Scrimgeour’s office, but Harry didn’t want to advertise that fact. Dobby wished Harry a Happy Birthday and Harry thanked him profusely for the socks, which he was actually wearing. Dobby was over the moon.

Scrimgeour raised an eyebrow when they were shown into his office rather than arrive via the floo.

“Happy Birthday Harry. Was there a problem?”

Harry shook his head, “Thank you Rufus, and no, nothing to worry about – just Dumbledore being Dumbledore. Anyway, thank you for the emancipation. Very much appreciated. You’ve come through for me and now it’s my turn. So, what’s the agenda for tomorrow?”

They spent just over an hour thrashing out the details. A few different ideas were discussed. In the end they decided to keep it relatively simple. This was their first Press Conference, so they just wanted to set the stage, as it were, and see how that went down with the Wizarding public. Harry also had the impression that Scrimgeour was worried that Harry wouldn’t actually deliver. So far, Harry had given him information and ideas, but this was the first real test of Harry’s commitment to their arrangement. Harry’s public support for the Ministry was what Scrimgeour had been after originally, and he was still very keen to achieve that. Anything else was probably icing on the cake.

Harry and Tonks arrived back at the Burrow in plenty of time for the party.

Tonks made Harry turn round while she changed, so he didn’t ‘spoil the surprise’.

When she said it was okay to turn round, he was indeed surprised. Tonks was wearing an incredibly pretty and flattering white summer dress. It was quite short – ending about mid-thigh, but was reasonably conservative up top. She wore a pink cardigan over it, which made her look super-cute. The most amazing thing though... was that she was wearing high heels. Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a witch wearing high heels (apart from the Yule Ball in fourth year) but he certainly never imagined _Tonks_ wearing them. As always, she looked utterly breathtaking.

A very naughty image leapt into his mind... of Tonks bent over with that dress pulled up, her knickers round her ankles and Harry taking her from behind. Harry flushed bright red and frantically screened his thoughts. God, he was so horny! All her sexy new clothes and daily stripteases were driving him crazy with lust, and he’d had no opportunity to take matters in hand (as it were). If he didn’t do something about it soon there was every possibility that his insanely full testicles might explode and kill everyone.

“You look amazing,” he managed to croak.

Tonks grinned and took his arm, “Thank you Harry.”

They wandered downstairs since it was just before six. Mrs Weasley had put on a huge spread of buffet food. Ron was already tucking in, while everyone else waited for Harry to arrive.

“Wow, Mrs Weasley, this looks amazing!” Harry gushed, earning him a delighted grin from Mrs Weasley as she handed out drinks. Once everyone had a glass Mr Weasley stepped forward.

He lifted his glass, “Happy Birthday Harry!”

The rest followed suit, toasting Harry, who smiled self-consciously in thanks.

Everyone looked very smart, he realised. Even Ron had made an effort, though Harry suspected he’d been bullied into it by someone. The women, in particular, looked amazing. Fleur was wearing a spectacular curve-hugging little black dress that showed off her legs and cleavage to great effect. Harry suspected she was wearing it more for Bill’s benefit than anyone else’s though – her fiancé couldn’t keep his hands off her. Hermione had chosen a royal-blue knee-length A-line dress with multi-coloured shoulder straps and royal-blue court shoes. She looked very pretty, and she’d managed to tame her hair into a very fetching set of waves, with a parting on the left. Ginny, meanwhile, had gone for a three-quarter-length pale gold smock dress with strappy sandals that matched her hair.

“Now let’s tuck in,” Mr Weasley advised, looking pointedly at Ron, “while there’s still some food left...”

“I was hungry!” Ron exclaimed, as if that explained everything.

Once everyone had enjoyed at least one trip to the buffet, Mrs Weasley brought out a huge chocolate cake with ‘Happy Birthday Harry’ and a large number sixteen iced on top. Harry made the first cut, to cheers and applause, and then Mrs Weasley took over, handing out generous slices to everyone.

Harry was half way through his slice when a surprise guest arrived – Remus Lupin. He was looking gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with grey, his clothes more ragged and patched than ever. Tonks swore and tried to sink into the background.

Lupin wished Harry a brief happy birthday, and then spoiled the cheerful atmosphere with grisly tidings.

“There have been another couple of Dementor attacks,” he announced, as Mrs Weasley passed him a large slice of cake.

“And they’ve found Igor Karkaroff’s body in a shack up north. The Dark Mark had been set over it – well, frankly, I’m surprised he stayed alive for even a year after deserting the Death Eaters; Sirius’s brother Regulus only managed a few days as far as I can remember.”

“Yes, well,” said Mrs Weasley, frowning, “perhaps we should talk about something diff...”

“Did you hear about Florean Fortescue, Remus?” asked Bill, who was being plied with wine by Fleur.

“The man who ran...”

“... the ice-cream place in Diagon Alley?” Harry interrupted, with an unpleasant, hollow sensation in the pit of his stomach. “He used to give me free ice creams. What’s happened to him?”

“Dragged off, by the look of his place.”

“Why?” asked Ron, while Mrs Weasley glared at Bill.

“Who knows? He must’ve upset them somehow. He was a good man, Florean.”

“Talking of Diagon Alley,” said Mr Weasley, “looks like Ollivander’s gone too.”

“The wand-maker?” said Ginny, looking startled.

“That’s the one. Shop’s empty. No sign of a struggle. No one knows whether he left voluntarily or was kidnapped.”

“But wands – what’ll people do for wands?’”

“They’ll make do with other makers,” said Lupin. “But Ollivander was the best, and if the other side have got him it’s not so good for us.”

Harry stepped away from the morose group surrounding Remus. He didn’t really want to hear this sort of thing at his birthday party, but Lupin was intent on talking about it. Harry ended up chatting to Tonks, who seemed equally keen to avoid Lupin, and was hitting the Firewhisky pretty hard.

They were lost in conversation when Lupin’s voice interrupted them, “And who is this lovely young lady, Harry?”

Tonks glared at Lupin in disbelief, “It’s _me_ you jackass! Tonks! You remember me? The girl you bored senseless on four lousy dates...”

Lupin was completely wrong-footed, “ _Nymphadora?_ ”

“Oh my God, you senile git, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?”

“Why do you look like a teenager?”

“Well, you said I was too young for you, so I decided to embrace that.”

“Dora, that’s crazy...”

“I wasn’t serious, you plonker. I’m undercover, aren’t I? Guarding Harry! And don’t call me Dora. That’s what my Dad calls me. Despite appearances to the contrary, you are not my Dad.”

“What’s happened to you, Dor... Tonks? You look taller...” He eyed her up and down. “Are you wearing _heels_? You even smell different... you smell... younger.”

“Oh that’s _lovely_! I _smell_ different! You’re a right charmer aren’t you? What the hell did I ever see in you?”

“You know what I mean – I have a more sensitive nose...”

“Oh who cares what you and your massive nose mean? Why are you here anyway? To spoil Harry’s party with your depressing news or to spoil my day with your ugly face?”

“You’re being rather immature, don’t you think?”

“Immature? _I’ll show you immature, you patronizing bag of sh..._ ” She lunged at Lupin, but Harry grabbed her round the waist and pulled her back. Tonks kept struggling to get at the older man, shouting obscenities, so Harry slapped his hand over her mouth. The obscenities continued, but were largely muffled.

“Would you excuse us for a moment?” Harry said calmly “I think Tonks needs a little air.”

Harry stepped out the back door, carrying a struggling Tonks as best he could. His hand was still covering her mouth but every now and again Tonks would struggle free to scream a few words back at Lupin.

“... maybe it’s you that’s _shorter_ because your head is so far up your arse...”

“... _you’ll_ smell different once I’ve kicked seven kinds of cra...”

“... I’d rather date a syphilitic troll than a mouldy old hermit like...”

“... you’re probably hung like a baby carrot anyway, unlike Har...”

Harry carried her out of earshot, and then walked her round the orchard a few times, which seemed to sober her up a bit.

When they returned to the house half an hour later, Lupin had gone, much to Harry's relief.

Tonks visibly relaxed and was soon having a wonderful time. Harry thoroughly enjoyed the party, especially when Tonks produced a gramophone from somewhere and encouraged everyone to start dancing. In Harry’s opinion there was only one thing more wonderful than beautiful women in posh frocks – beautiful women in posh frocks _dancing_. It really showed off their feminine curves.

The festivities gradually wound-down around midnight and everyone retired for the evening.

Once they were alone in their room, Tonks apologised, “I’m sorry about what happened earlier, Harry.”

Harry laughed, “Don’t worry, I thought it was hilarious. Lupin’s face! Anyway, he _can_ be a bit stuffy sometimes.”

Tonks snorted, “You’re telling me! I really was bored senseless on our dates. But I’d fallen for him, you know? It didn’t seem to matter that he was really dull. Thank God it was only four dates. We never even kissed. I suppose I should be thankful for that.”

Harry’s expression became serious, “I thought about a lot of things after Sirius died. Do you know what I realised about Lupin? That it’s his fault that Voldemort is back. For all his grandiose posturing and sanctimonious advice, it was his _incompetence_ that led to Voldemort’s return. If it weren’t for Lupin, we wouldn’t be in this mess! After I killed Quirrell in my first year, Voldemort’s shade fled back to Albania where it had spent the previous ten years. It would probably still be there now, except that Peter Pettigrew brought him back in my fourth year and helped him regain a body. The thing is... we captured Peter Pettigrew in my third year. We were moments from handing him over to the Aurors and clearing Sirius’ name... but he escaped because Lupin transformed into a werewolf and tried to kill us all. Pettigrew escaped in the confusion. Lupin had forgotten to take his Wolfsbane potion, you see. _Forgotten!_ ”

“You’re kidding!” Tonks exclaimed. “He certainly never told me _that_!”

Harry scoffed, “You don’t say? Shocker! Yeah, he turned into a werewolf and tried very hard to kill Hermione and me. We’d be dead right now if Sirius, then Snape and then Buckbeak hadn’t saved us. Everything that’s happened since then can be traced back to that one moment. Every event and every death, including Cedric and Sirius... they’re all Lupin’s fault. So he’s right – he _doesn’t_ deserve you. He’s never shown any remorse for his failure that night, which tells me that he can’t be relied on not to do it again. Being a _werewolf_ doesn’t make him unsafe, being an _arrogant and incompetent moron_ does.”

Harry was working himself up into quite a fury as more of Lupin’s shortcomings occurred to him.

“Another thing I realised is that he’s a selfish coward. He was supposedly one of my parents’ closest friends, but when they died he made no attempt to look after their baby son. He never visited me, or checked up on me, or sent me a birthday present. In fact, do you know how many birthday presents I’ve had off Lupin in my entire life? None! Not a single one. He didn’t bring one tonight either, did you notice? He just turned up, depressed everyone, ate cake, and ran away when things got tough.”

“He was a professor at Hogwarts for eight months before he told me he was a friend of my parents, and he only did that because I’d caught Sirius and the whole story came out. When Snape blabbed to the school that Lupin was a werewolf he didn’t even _attempt_ to stay. He was packed and gone in minutes. Couldn’t get out of there fast enough! He talks a good game, but he’s a _quitter_. Given half a chance he’ll always run away.”

“But that’s not all. Do you know how many times he contacted me after he left? None! I was entered into the deadly Triwizard Tournament, faced challenges far beyond my abilities, and Lupin made no attempt to help me. None at all! He didn’t even contact me. He just disappeared from my life like he did when I was a baby. The next time I saw him was the day I met you.”

“He always has an excuse, of course. Usually something to do with being a werewolf, but they’re just excuses. Nothing about him being a werewolf would have prevented him from helping me in the Triwizard Tournament; even if it was just suggestions by owl. But no, he just left me to die. Fleeing Hogwarts the way he did was cowardice. Leaving you the way he did was cowardice. So you’re _much_ better off without him, because he’d have abandoned you eventually... probably when you needed him the most, like he did with me... twice!”

Tonks grabbed Harry and hugged him tight, but Harry wasn’t quite done.

“You know what the worst thing is though,” Harry asked in a serious tone, “the thing that _really_ turns my stomach?”

Tonks shook her head against his chest.

“It’s that stupid wispy moustache!” Harry declared forcefully. “I mean seriously! Ick!”

Tonks had not been expecting that at all. She burst out laughing.

“It’s like a furry little caterpillar stuck to his face,” Harry continued. “It’s impossible to take him seriously.”

Tonks was laughing really hard now.

“Someone should put that thing out of its misery,” Harry declared. “It’s animal cruelty, that is.”

Harry was all set to continue his fake rant, but Tonks reached up, put her arms round his neck and kissed him full on the lips. Harry froze. Oh God, he was kissing his cousin again!

He should stop.

Yes, he should definitely stop.

He didn’t stop.

Her lips just felt so amazing. Harry closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her.

A long time later, Tonks pulled back and looked him in the eye. “Thank you Harry. I needed a good laugh. Remus doesn’t mean anything to me anymore, but it’s still a bit raw, you know?”

Harry shrugged, “Sure, and you’re welcome.”

Her eyes glittered, “Now I have one more birthday present for you Harry...”

She stepped away and gave him a twirl. She really did look quite breathtaking in that summer dress and those heels. The skirt flew up as she turned, giving him a fabulous view of her toned thighs and a flash of lacy pink knickers. They matched her cardigan, he noticed. Why would she match something that nobody would see?

“Your final present,” Tonks declared, “is _me!_ ”

“You?” Harry replied, startled.

“Yes me! You’re an adult now Harry, which means we can do whatever we want... and I want you to _do me_. I’ve seen the way you look at me Harry. I’ve seen how much you like this body. I see it every time I get undressed. I know it’s been torture for you, having constant erections and not being able to do anything about it. I’m sorry about that, Harry, but I couldn’t help myself. I love seeing how attracted you are to me, and I love the fact that you never did anything about it. You never even _tried_ to talk me into anything, or hint at anything, or whinge or moan or any of the other things teenage boys usually do. You never touched me unless I touched you first. You always let me decide how far things should go. You’ve been a perfect gentleman the last two weeks and... quite frankly... it’s been _really_ frustrating.”

That last bit startled Harry so much that he gawped like a fish.

Tonks snorted, “Nice expression Harry. The last few weeks have been just as bad for me as they have for you. The jackrabbit is my patronus for a reason you know – they’re well known for their extraordinary libido. You’re such an amazing guy, and you’ve got such a sexy body! Whenever I gave you an erection I got _super horny_. I’ve also been dreaming about that amazing orgasm you gave me _every damned night_. I’ve been waking up absolutely _gagging_ for you to shag me. I’m wound up so tight I’m going to start humping the furniture soon.”

She poked him in the chest with her finger. “So don’t give me any trouble, Potter. I don’t care if you _are_ my cousin. You are going to _shag me_ tonight, and you are going to shag me _hard_. I’ve never been so horny in my entire life, and it’s entirely your fault, so you are going to fix it!”

Harry froze like a deer in headlights. Was she serious? She sounded serious...

Tonks giggled, “I think I broke Harry Potter!”

She grabbed him by the hand, “Come on, we’ll use your bed. I don’t want mine to smell of sex.”

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	17. An Unexpected Present part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Extreme smut ahead... and even more in part II! :-D

Tonks led him to the bed and indicated that he should lie down. She then crawled on top and sat straddling his waist looking down at him. The skirt of her summer dress settled around her, drawing Harry’s attention to the fact that only her thin lacy knickers separated her bare flesh from the growing bulge in his trousers.

“Did you silence the door?” he asked in concern.

Tonks laughed, “Chill out Harry. I always silence it... unless I deliberately _don’t_ silence it to tease the girls. Fun though it would be for Ginny and Hermione to hear us having sex, I suspect Molly would take a dim view so it would be more trouble than it’s worth. Anyway, what we’re about to do is private.”

Harry relaxed a little. He was already nervous about what Tonks said was going to happen and the idea that anyone might be listening would make him even more self-conscious. Not that he entirely believed he was going to have sex with Tonks. Despite all the wonderful things that had happened in the last few weeks (like seeing her strip and admiring her amazing body) he still didn’t trust his good luck to hold. In fact, now he thought about it, Harry was rather surprised that Voldemort hadn’t launched an attack on the Burrow just to spoil his birthday.

“You know,” Tonks said softly, distracting him from his thoughts, “I’ve learnt a lot about you over the last few weeks. I’ve learnt that if we win this war it will be because of _you_. Not the Minister, not Dumbledore – _you_. You may only be sixteen, but you’ve had to deal with a lot more than most adults. I don’t think you realise how impressive you are when you get going. Scrimgeour was completely lost until you inspired him and gave him back his confidence. I hate to think what would have happened if you _hadn’t_ done that. I don’t know anyone who could have spoken to Scrimgeour the way you did. You don’t seem to realise it, but everyone else is completely _terrified_ of the man. He’s a right _scary bastard_ actually... but you don’t even notice. I suppose that’s what happens when you face Voldemort every year... but my point is that in almost every respect you’re very mature for your age.”

Harry raised a cheeky eyebrow, “Almost?”

Tonks snorted, “Yes Harry, _almost_. When it comes to girls you’re completely hopeless.”

Harry winced, “Oh right. Yeah...”

“I mean _seriously_ ,” she huffed. “I’ve been stripping for you like _ten times a day_... _Stripping_ Harry! _Stark naked!_ And still you did nothing! What the hell does a girl have to do to get shagged around here?”

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.

Harry was a little wrong-footed, “Erm... I thought you just liked changing clothes?”

“Don’t be daft Harry. Who changes clothes that often? No. I was trying to break your resolve. I thought you’d crack and give me a good seeing to, but you never did!”

“Why didn’t you just say?” Harry countered, a bit narked that he hadn’t got to shag her earlier.

“Because you were underage of course! I couldn’t pounce on someone who was fifteen! But if you pounced on me... well that would be a whole different thing.”

Harry frowned, “Tonks that makes no sense at all.”

“ _I know!_ ” she whined in frustrated embarrassment. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I couldn’t help it. Also,” she added hesitantly, “I might have become slightly addicted to giving you erections...”

“ _What?_ ” Harry exclaimed. “ _Why?_ ”

“I don’t know,” she replied in agitation. “I just did. It was nice.”

Harry grinned, “Well I’m not complaining – you looked amazing... in clothes _and_ out of them.”

Tonks gave him a shy smile, “Thanks Harry. Well anyway, like I said, you’re hopeless with girls. But in most other respects you’re very mature. You’re also the most generous, selfless and considerate person I’ve ever met. It doesn’t even occur to you to be any other way. You put everyone else first, and they _let you do it_. You have people who care about you of course... but when it comes to fighting your corner you don’t have a single person to back you up.”

Harry realised she was right. Given the choice between supporting Harry and doing what Dumbledore said, everyone he knew sided with Dumbledore. Even Hermione – she’d cut Harry off last summer, for example, when Dumbledore told everyone to keep Harry in the dark. Mrs Weasley was the worst – she seemed to think that keeping Harry permanently clueless would somehow shield him from harm. Apparently his many near-death experiences, and all the times he’d saved her children from death could not dissuade her from that view. The only person who’d actually been on Harry’s side was Sirius, and thanks to Dumbledore he was gone.

“Well you do now, okay?” Tonks continued. “I will fight your corner with you. When someone like Molly tries to bully you, they’ll have _me_ to deal with. I’m your bodyguard _and_ your friend. I won’t let anyone take advantage of you.”

She paused, “Well... except me, obviously.”

Tonks grinned and Harry grinned back. Being taken advantage of by a gorgeous girl wasn’t exactly a negative in Harry’s opinion.

“Now,” Tonks said in a more serious tone, “Let’s talk about sex. Since this is your first time I’ll give you a few pointers. Number one, sex is a marathon not a sprint. Girls take a while to get going, so take your time. Explore with your hands and your eyes first. Take your cues off the girl. She’ll signal when she’s ready for you to step things up a gear. It’s better to take things too slow than too fast. She’ll soon let you know if it’s too slow, probably by grabbing your knob. It can be quite tricky to bring a girl to orgasm, so your best bet is to make her orgasm first before you have one yourself. She will not be happy if you peak too soon and leave her hanging. Second, be super gentle with a girl’s clitoris. You’re not strumming a guitar down there. The lightest of touches is sufficient. It’ll get her there eventually, and the longer it takes the more powerful it’ll be. Are you with me so far?”

Harry nodded mutely. His brain had already blown several fuses.

“Okay good,” Tonks resumed. “Third, the secret to good sex is to always be a good _host_. That’s an acronym I made up: H-O-S-T. The letters stand for Hand-Oral-Sex-Toys. If you want a girl to have multiple orgasms... and you most certainly _do_ want that... then you should give her one with your hand first, then your mouth, then your cock, and finally with sex toys. We don’t have any toys but the first three will do fine for tonight. Just remember that acronym and do things in that order. You can mix things up once you know what you’re doing, but it’s much harder to give a girl multiple orgasms in any other order so don’t try it yet. Any questions?”

Harry shook his head. If he was honest, he was now completely terrified. He’d never really thought about giving a girl _multiple_ orgasms. He didn’t even know that was possible. He’d thought that having sex just meant sliding his dick in and out until he and the girl climaxed together. It had never occurred to him that there might be more to it, or that the girl might not climax on cue. Also, how could you give a girl an orgasm with your mouth? With his hand he could stick his fingers inside her, but did his mouth mean sticking his tongue inside her? Admittedly the thought of that turned him on enormously, but surely his tongue wasn’t long enough? And sex toys... _what the hell were sex toys?_

Tonks snorted, “Don’t look so worried Harry! You’ve already given me an orgasm, remember? You’ll be fine.”

“Um... actually I do have a question,” Harry said hesitantly. “Um...well... what’s a clitoris?”

Tonks’ eyes went wide, “Oh crikey. Right... Yes... Um, good question. I think... I think maybe it’s best if I just show you when the time comes eh? No pun intended. We don’t want to spoil the mood with a biology lesson...”

Harry shrugged in mystification, “Okay.”

Tonks grinned, “Excellent! Now that’s enough theory. It’s time for some practical.” She wiggled her eyebrows, “You should start unwrapping your present Harry... but maybe you should give it a good feel first... too see if you can guess what it is... starting with this...”

She leaned forwards and kissed him full on the lips. Her eyes fluttered shut.

Harry’s heart stopped completely.

Kissing Tonks was always amazing, because her lips were so soft and she was gorgeous... but kissing her while she was crouched on top of him somehow made it even better. Harry became very aware that Tonks’ summer dress was made of extremely thin material and he could feel her boobs pressed against his chest. Entirely of their own accord, his arms wrapped themselves around her. Tonks moaned contentedly into his mouth.

They snogged for several minutes, with Harry running his hands over Tonks’ back and Tonks running her fingers through his hair. Their lips played across each other in a passionate dance and their breathing grew heavier. An ache began to grow in Harry’s chest... and another (rather different one) in his trousers.

He _wanted_ her. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. She was wonderful in every possible way – open, genuine, thoughtful, kind, courageous... the list was endless. On top of which she was breathtakingly beautiful, with the hottest body Harry had ever seen, complemented by the sexiest clothes.

He’d spent the last two weeks devouring her with his eyes, longing to touch her, and now that he had the chance he wasn’t going to squander it. With a sudden lift of his hips and a twist at the waist Harry rolled them both over until Tonks was on her back with Harry lying half on top of her. His left arm and left leg pinned her to the bed. Tonks squealed in delighted surprise, staring up at Harry with twinkling eyes.

“Oh my,” she giggled. “I’m completely defenceless. Whatever will become of me?”

Harry plunged his mouth onto hers. Tonks' yelp was muffled by their joined lips, but she threw her arms around him and lifted her right leg to circle his waist. Her eyes fluttered shut again. Harry wrapped his own arms around her, squeezing their bodies together and moaning hungrily. He could feel every soft feminine curve of her fabulous body pressed against him. His semi-slumbering trouser snake woke instantly, and grew rapidly to full size. Harry tried to ignore it as his hand slid up her side from her waist to her ribs. The curve of her right boob was mere centimetres away, but he didn’t dare touch it. What if she didn’t want him to? Was it too soon? His thumb twitched nearer of its own accord but he pulled it back. Damn it, how would he know if she was ready?

Tonks growled in frustration. Her hand left his back, grabbed his wrist and deposited his hand firmly on her breast. Then she returned her hand to his back and moaned contentedly.

Even Harry couldn’t misunderstand _that_ hint. He ran his palm over the delightful curve of her boob, desperately wishing that there wasn’t a dress covering it. Tonks murmured happily, encouraging him to explore further. He ran his hand in small circles and then squeezed her breast gently. Tonks growled and rammed her lips against his even harder.

Harry yearned for the feel of her bare flesh, but her neckline was too high. There was no way he could reach her chest unless he unzipped her dress, but the zip was at the back and currently inaccessible. Fortunately there was some bare skin elsewhere that was much more attainable.

Harry ran his hand back down Tonks’ side, marvelling at the warm feel of her body through the thin cotton of her dress. He paused to squeeze her waist. She made a satisfied, ‘Mmmm’ noise. His hand moved lower, over the glorious curve of her hip. He paused there too. There was something very sexual about squeezing her hip. Tonks seemed to agree – the leg circling his waist rose higher, pressing her warm crotch against his thigh.

Harry’s ardour increased and his hand slid lower again, down the dress-covered thigh she’d thrown over him to her bare knee. A thrill ran up his spine at the feel of her bare skin. He’d felt it before of course, in the bathroom that time, but it seemed like an eternity ago. She’d also been in a different body. This one was younger, slimmer, and more toned. Her skin felt even softer than it had last time, and Harry longed to experience more. His hand reversed course, slipping under her skirt and up her bare thigh.

With a feral snarl Tonks dug her nails into the shirt on his back and plunged her tongue into his mouth. Wild animalistic lust coursed suddenly through his veins and he crushed her body to his. His hand flew up her skirt and grabbed her panty-covered ass. Tonks went wild, her tongue fighting with his and her groin pressing roughly into his leg.

It wasn’t enough. Harry needed more. He drew his hand back towards her thigh. As soon as his fingertips cleared the edge of her knickers he thrust them forwards again, diving inside the leg of her lacy underwear. His fingers brushed across the smooth firm skin of her bare bum. He grabbed her entire naked butt cheek and squeezed.

Tonks went nuts, grinding herself into his thigh and savaging his mouth with hers. Harry was elated. He could hardly believe what was happening. Kissing this gorgeous girl was amazing, but this? This was in a different league. After all those weeks of admiring her beauty and wishing he could touch it, he finally was! He had his hand up Tonks’ skirt and was groping her bare arse! Incredible.

Suddenly Tonks pushed him onto his back and rolled on top of him. Her hands appeared between them, frantically unfastening his shirt buttons. Harry’s left hand was still inside her knickers clutching her bum, but his right hand was no longer trapped underneath her. There was no question about what he should do with it – he slid it straight up her left thigh and inside the leg of her panties. His heart was beating like crazy as he grabbed her bare backside in both hands.

A yelp escaped her and she gave up trying to undo his buttons. With a savage yank she tore his shirt open, popping all the buttons off, and began hungrily running her hands over his chest. It felt wonderful and Harry was briefly distracted from how amazing her bum felt in his hands. But the interruption was momentary. Her butt was simply too perfect to ignore. He started circling his palms in opposite directions, marvelling at the sensuous curves and milky skin of her astonishing behind.

Tonks leaned forwards and started kissing her way down his neck. When she reached his chest she deviated to the side and kissed around his left nipple, and then did the same on the right. Harry had never felt anything like it. Each touch of her lips sent little jolts of electricity though his body. She travelled down his sternum and abs, skipped over his navel, and worked her way lower. Harry’s breath caught in his throat as she approached his waist, but she stopped just short and began kissing her way back up again.

She was teasing him, he realised. Well, two could play at that game! He kept his hands inside her knickers but slid them forwards until his palms were on her bare hips. Then he began caressing the crease between her legs and her mound with his thumbs.

With a startled, “Eep”, Tonks completely stopped what she was doing. She fell forwards until her forehead was on his chest and she started hyperventilating. _Ha!_ Harry thought. That’ll teach her. Harry 1 Tonks 0.

Unfortunately his plan backfired. In a frenzy, Tonks started fumbling at his belt. Oh God. _What was she going to do down there?_ He’d cum for sure if she touched him down there! He had to distract her, but how? Sitting on top of him and leaning forwards like she was left him no access to her pussy area, and her boobs were thoroughly covered by her dress. There was no alternative – he had to get that dress off! He could just about see the zip, so he removed his hands from inside her panties and scrambled to grab onto the tiny rectangle of metal.

With one hand holding the top of her dress and the other on the zipper he pulled it all the way down to the small of her back. The upper half of the dress fell loose, giving Harry a fabulous view of Tonks chest. She wasn’t wearing a bra, he was delighted to discover. He could see her bare tits hanging loose and they looked absolutely spectacular. Harry’s cock thumped against his trousers in appreciation.

Tonks was still struggling unsuccessfully with his belt and growling in frustration. She seemed unaware of what he’d done to her dress. Seizing his opportunity, Harry grabbed her by the waist and rolled her onto her back. Tonks yipped in surprised, but before she could react Harry grabbed the shoulders of her dress and pulled it down both her arms. Tonks squealed, realising that her entire chest had been laid bare.

She slapped him on the arm, “How the hell did you do that?”

Harry smirked, “Seeker skills – I seek, I find.”

She slapped him again, “My boobs are not snitches!”

“No,” Harry admitted, kissing her on the collar bone, “they’re... more... like... perfect... pink... quaffles.”

Each word was punctuated with a kiss as he worked his way along her clavicle and then up her neck. When he reached her chin he worked his way down the other side of her neck and across the other collar bone. Tonks melted, whimpering in pleasure.

Amusingly the dress had wrapped itself around her wrists, one of which was pinned between their bodies, so Tonks was effectively handcuffed. She tried to wriggle her arms free but couldn’t, especially after Harry grabbed her other wrist and pinned it to the bed. With Tonks helpless to stop him, Harry began kissing his way down her cleavage. Tonks’ head fell back and she moaned in tormented delight. She wriggled weakly, but Harry held her firmly in place.

His lips skipped down the centre of her chest, mere inches from the breathtaking temptations to either side. Tonks twisted beneath him in a desperate attempt to redirect his attentions, but Harry tracked her movements precisely. He didn’t want to kiss her breasts just yet. Firstly because she’d said it was better to go too slow than too fast, and second because he was too busy admiring them. He’d never been this close to her boobs before and he was thoroughly mesmerised.

Unlike Hermione, whose naked body had featured various freckles, beauty spots and birthmarks, Tonks didn’t have a single blemish. Her skin was utterly flawless. Her boobs formed two seductively curved mounds of exquisitely perfect flesh, topped with areolas the size of galleons and nipples that just begged to be licked.

A shiver ran through Tonks as Harry reached her stomach. Goosebumps rose on her skin and disappeared just as quickly. She inhaled sharply with each tender caress of his lips on her wonderfully flat belly. The rolled-up top of her dress around her waist prevented him from going lower, so he deviated left and began kissing her in a straight line up towards her nipple.

The closer he got the more forcefully she inhaled, but just before he reached the curve of her breast he circled around it. Tonks mewled in protest, but gasped as his lips worked their magic on the tender skin over her ribs.

Harry worked his way around, circling his kisses just along the edge of her mammary. It drove Tonks wild with barely-satisfied lust. He passed down her cleavage once more, and then underneath the other breast before circling that one too. Tonks struggled to free herself again, but Harry held her tight. Once he’d completed a figure-eight-shaped circuit of both boobs, he reduced the diameter of his circuit and repeated it.

This time he was definitely kissing within the borders of her bust and Tonks went nuts, moaning and writhing in a frantic attempt to get him to kiss her nipples. Harry had to slip his right hand under her neck so he could grab her shoulder and hold her still. Delighted though he was that Tonks was enjoying this, Harry had been dreaming about kissing her tits every night for two weeks, so he was determined to savour every second of it. He’d kiss her nipples when he was good and ready!

A steady buzzing at the edge of his mind distracted him for a moment. _What was that?_ He shook his head to clear it, but the insistent hum remained. It wasn’t a noise though. It was more like a feeling – a vague sense of something pulling at his subconscious mind.

He tried to ignore it as he began his next circuit of Tonks’ perfect boobs. This time he kissed just outside the circle of her areolas. Tonks went insane, her legs contorting this way and that as she writhed in pleasure. The buzzing in Harry’s mind flared abruptly, expanding like a blossoming flower... growing... growing... growing...

Something shifted...

Harry could see Tonks lying half-naked below him, but he could also feel himself lying on his back with his eyes shut. In confusion he concentrated on the latter and it grew clearer. He was pinned down, unable to move, and something truly wonderful was happening. Massive waves of pleasure were flowing out from his chest, filling his body with wanton lust and carnal hunger. He opened his eyes to see... himself looking down. He jumped in shock, and found himself back in his own body looking down at Tonks. But the connection remained, much fainter now, but still there.

He could feel what Tonks was feeling and it was glorious. No wonder she was going bananas. It felt incredible!

Tentatively, Harry focussed on the connection and once again found himself in Tonks’ body. This was exactly like his connection with Voldemort, he realised. He could see what Tonks was seeing and feel what she was feeling, but she was entirely unaware of his presence. He returned to his own body and resumed kissing the beautiful girl’s boobs. This was not the time to discuss what had just happened. Her boobs were far more important!

Harry suspected he knew what it meant though. Tonks had been right – he _was_ a natural _Legilimens_. That’s why he could counter-attack when Snape invaded his mind, and why he could initiate contact with Voldemort (even when the git didn’t want it). All the times Tonks had used Legilimency during his training, and the many times their minds had joined, seemed to have forged a link between them. Then, in the same way that intense emotion (usually anger) opened his connection to Voldemort, intense emotion (in this case pleasure) had opened his connection to Tonks. Or something like that.

As his lips toured the wonderfully soft pale flesh of Tonks’ tits, Harry was aware of both his own pleasure and hers. Hers was far more intense, and threatened to turn him into a blubbering wreck, so he pushed it away until it was more manageable. The emotions that went with it were fascinating though. She absolutely loved what he was doing, which was a relief and a delight. But her desires were more complex and conflicted. She was desperate for him to kiss and lick and suck her nipples, but also loved being teased and made to wait. The balance was shifting on that though – too much teasing would soon start to genuinely frustrate her, which would reduce her enjoyment.

Based on what he sensed through their connection, Harry timed his move carefully. He completed his final circuit of her breasts just as her arousal peaked, and immediately started kissing her left nipple.

Tonks went absolutely berserk, crying out in delight with each caress of his lips, “Oh God yes! Yes! Yes!”

Beneath his lips, Harry felt her nipple harden into a firm bud, while the tender circle of dark pink skin around it contracted into a rippled dome. The euphoria he could feel flowing from her jumped significantly.

Sensing that she no longer wanted to escape, Harry released her wrist and cupped the breast he was kissing in his hand. Tonks grabbed the back of his head and curled her fingers in his hair, then pressed his face firmly into her boob. Harry’s lips buried themselves in her areola and closed around her nipple.

Tonks threw her head back, “Oh sweet Merlin!”

Harry knew what she was after, and since he had little choice he gave her what she wanted – he licked the nipple she’d pushed into his mouth.

“Urgh!” she gurgled, trembling from head to foot.

Her elation was growing rapidly, gaining a momentum all of its own. The time for teasing was over. A very clear image formed in Harry’s mind. She was picturing what she wanted, and desperately hoping he’d do it... because she wanted it _now_.

Harry sucked on her nipple, and then flicked it with his tongue. Tonks cried out. Harry sensed waves of rapture sweeping through her. While she was distracted he slid his hand down her body to her knee, and then up her silky-soft inside thigh. She parted her legs in clear invitation and Harry’s hand flew straight up her skirt, brushing along her inner thigh.

The closer he got to her crotch the hotter her thigh became. He started circling his fingertips on her sensitive skin to delay his arrival at her knickers, which made her tremble in anticipation. But he sensed that any further delay would be unwise and continued on. A wave of glee swept through her as his fingers skimmed over her panty-covered pussy, but he didn’t tarry. He continued on, up over her mound to the waistband of her underwear.

Tonks froze. Desperation and longing flowed through the connection, building and building into a tremendous crescendo, at which point Harry did what she wanted him to and plunged his hand inside her lacy pink knickers.

Harry’s fingers brushed across her smooth and hairless mound and then straight down between her legs.

Tonks was completely overwhelmed. Euphoria flooded her mind and poured through into Harry’s. It was so powerful he had to dampen the connection for fear of accidentally ejaculating into his trousers.

He’d never touched a girl’s pussy before, but he’d dreamt about it and fantasised about it, many times. Nothing he’d imagined matched the reality. Tonks’ most intimate parts were so hot it felt like they were on fire. His fingertips gently caressed several delightfully flexible folds of skin. Her pussy was so soft! And so deliciously feminine! He literally ached to thrust himself inside it. Harry’s cock throbbed painfully. He’d never been so hard in his entire life.

With difficulty he focussed on the task at hand, as it were. Tonks had pictured exactly what she wanted, and he was now in a position to deliver it. Very gently, he started rubbing his hand on her pussy the way she’d imagined, while using his mouth on her tits – kissing, nibbling, licking and sucking – first one breast and then the other.

There was no need for a connection to know that he was doing something right.

Tonks convulsed, her entire body curling in on itself, and she began panting heavily.

“Huh... Huh... Huh... Huh... Huh... Huh...”

Harry’s fingers were rapidly becoming very familiar with Tonks’ pussy. The miraculously soft skin of her inner and outer pussy lips compressed and contorted delightfully at his touch, and a moist central valley opened up. Her inner lips parted and without even intending to, Harry’s middle finger slipped into the widening cleft. Tonks cried out, but Harry’s attention was entirely on the mind-blowing feel of her pussy on his hand. He soon discovered a small depression at the base of her valley, out of which a small trickle of slick juices had leaked. That must be the entrance to her vagina, he realised. But to his surprise, that wasn’t what had her attention.

Her focus was on a point at the top of the valley, where the gentle massaging of his palm was setting off fireworks in her head. After some minor experimentation, Harry was able to adjust the pace and pressure of his stroking to maximise the pleasure she was feeling from that mysteriously sensitive area.

Tonks instantly began squealing, “Heee, heee, heee, heee, heee...”

Taking his queues from her, Harry stroked her pussy and sucked her tits at just the right times and in just the right way to make her go crazy. But her reaction surprised him. She almost went into a panic. ‘ _It was happening to quick!’_ her emotions seemed to be saying. ‘ _It will be over too fast.’_

Understanding came to him suddenly – if she reached orgasm too quickly it would be short and sharp, but if it built over a longer period it would be deeper and more satisfying. If he wanted her to _really_ enjoy it, the goal wasn’t to make her orgasm as fast as possible, it was to set the pace just right, so that her arousal built steadily and _relentlessly_ until it hit her like a tsunami. Tonks had even told him as much.

So Harry adjusted what he was doing. He caressed her pussy slightly softer and slower, while sucking her tits slightly more gently. The pace of her growing excitement dropped, but a huge sense of relief swept over her. She relaxed into it, savouring the pleasure Harry was giving her, confident in the knowledge that if he kept it up she would have a truly wonderful climax.

It didn’t take long. Her excitement grew steadily and her breathing became laboured.

Harry could sense her orgasm starting to build.

So could Tonks of course. She began crying out, “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.”

Harry could sense what he needed to do to make her climax more intense and adjusted what he was doing accordingly. Faster and faster she cried out, much more forcefully than she had two weeks ago.

“OH GOD. OH GOD. OH GOD. OHGOD. OHGOD. OHGOD....”

The tension in her body was building inexorably, but Harry kept her just shy of her climax. She was so close. So very very close. But he denied her that blissful release.

“OHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGOD...”

It was like bitter-sweet torture. For almost half a minute he held her in rapturous torment, writhing in exquisite anguish as the tidal wave of her climax crested above her but refused to break. And then, just when she thought she could take no more, Harry finally let it crash down upon her. It struck with brutal force and she was totally swept away.

Her spine arched backwards and she screamed as the truly massive orgasm took her.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

She shuddered violently, her entire body wracked with violent spasms.

She released a long juddering scream, “AAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH...”

And then another: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH...”

For two whole minutes she trembled helplessly in Harry’s arms. He didn’t take his eyes off her the entire time. Tonks having an orgasm was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

The shaking gradually died away, but she lay bonelessly on the bed, shivering and whimpering pitifully.

Harry wasn’t quite sure what to do now. He’d stopped stroking her, but his hand was still inside her knickers cupping her wet pussy. He let his eyes rove over her body. It really was amazing. Her fabulous breasts were completely exposed, glistening with saliva where he’d licked them. Her slim and toned legs were bare and her skirt was bunched up around her waist giving him a fantastic view of her knickers. The fact that his hand was inside them was a delightful bonus.

Harry was certain he would remember this moment for the rest of his life. But he didn’t want the night to be over. Incredible though it had been to touch her privates and give her an orgasm, he wanted more. He wanted to know what it felt like to be _inside her_. But he was conscious that she’d told him to be a good HOST. He’d done the ‘H’ for ‘hand’ part, so he had to perform the ‘O’ for oral before he could attempt the ‘S’ for sex.

He carefully lifted his hand off her muff and slid it free of her knickers. Then he removed his arm from under her neck. Tonks didn’t stir. She was still panting heavily with her eyes shut. Harry shuffled down to the end of the bed and crawled between her legs. He would need to remove her underwear to attempt oral sex, so he hooked his fingers into the waist of her knickers and pulled. Tonks helpfully lifted her hips to make it easier, and once he’d got them down to her thighs she lifted her knees so he could pull them all the way off. It was honestly the sexiest thing Harry had ever seen.

No, he took that back. What he was looking at _now_ was the sexist thing he’d ever seen. Tonks was lying on the bed with the skirt of her dress piled around her waist, no knickers on, her legs parted, and her sopping wet pussy completely exposed. Harry’s heart almost beat its way out of his chest. Gorgeous! Absolutely gorgeous!

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	18. An Unexpected Present part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: More extreme smut ahead!

Harry had no idea what he was supposed to do now, but he figured he’d work it out as he went along. Without doubt the first thing he wanted to do was kiss those fabulous legs. So that’s exactly what he did. Starting near her knee, he kissed every inch of Tonks’ beautiful inner thigh, all the way down to where it joined her body.

Tonks just lay there, hardly moving. But she moaned and the connection in Harry’s mind flared back to life.

Another image leapt into his head – something she’d fantasised about many many times, it seemed. But she was hesitant about it. She didn’t know if he’d like it, and the last thing she wanted was for him to react with disgust. Nevertheless she hoped that he _would_ like it, because she _wanted it_... she wanted it _very badly indeed_. In the image, Tonks was lying naked on her back with her knees spread wide. Harry’s head was between her thighs and his tongue was toying with a tiny little pink dome below the hood where her inner lips met.

Harry had never thought about licking a girl’s pussy, but he was more than willing to give it a try. The fact that she wanted it so badly was incentive enough – Harry was very eager to give her pleasure – but he was also delighted by the idea of being able to get so close to her privates. Seeing Hermione’s pussy close-up had blown his mind, and he was very keen to do the same with Tonks. But of course he’d have felt like a deviant asking if he could nip down there to inspect her bits. Fortunately she _wanted_ him down there, so the problem had resolved itself.

Tonks was worried though, and her anxiety was growing rapidly. She was about to bail in fear that he’d react badly. So Harry quickly leant forwards and ran his tongue lightly up the left side of her glistening pussy. It felt absolutely amazing! Her puffy outer lip was miraculously soft - it depressed at the slightest pressure. Tonks gasped in shock and delight, but her anxiety flared too, concerned at how he’d react. She was so wet down there... what if he found it unpleasant?

She needn’t have worried – Harry totally _loved it_. Not just the feel of her on his tongue, which was amazing, but the _taste_ of her. The juices flowing from her entrance had been spread all around by his hand earlier, but he’d deliberately collected them on his tongue as he licked her, to leave her a little drier. She seemed self-conscious about being so wet, so he thought he’d help her out. He licked his lips, properly savouring her juices. Tonks tasted absolutely delicious, like caramelised sugar.

“Mmmm,” he murmered in delight and immediately licked his way up the other outer pussy lip.

Surprise, delight and profound relief flowed from the girl he was devouring. She gradually relaxed and he sensed a hunger for more, but Harry was keen to give her wonderfully toned legs further attention. He switched to her left knee and began kissing his way down her inner thigh once more. He grinned to himself when a wave of frustrated excitement coursed through her.

The other benefit to working his way down her thigh again was that he could get a really good look at Tonks’ pussy. He’d become a bit of an expert on her muff over the last few weeks, having gaped at it so often. Ordinarily it was a very tidy affair (unlike Hermione’s which had a lot more going on). Tonks had a significant gap between the tops of her legs and Harry had formed a great fondness for the cute little camel toe that always formed in her knickers. When she stripped off a neat pair of outer labia were revealed with the tantalising folds of two exquisite inner labia peaking out between them. Everything else was tucked tidily away – there was ordinarily no sign of the hood that Hermione had at the top of her folds, for example, nor the curious pink dome beneath it.

That’s how Tonks’ pussy usually looked, but that’s not how it looked right now. The whole area was soggy, flushed and inflamed. Her outer lips were much puffier and had slackened significantly. They lay open in a wide wet triangle. Within, her minor labia were similarly flushed and loose, revealing the pink valley in between and the dark cave of her vagina entrance. Most surprisingly, at the top of her valley, where Tonks’ inner lips joined together, a small pink dome was visible below a chevron-shaped hood of folded skin.

Harry couldn’t believe how different it looked compared to before, and how different it was to Hermione’s pussy.

In retrospect, perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised. His knob looked very different when he was excited and when he wasn’t, after all. And Ron’s dick (which Harry had been unlucky enough to see around the Hogwarts dorm and showers) was frankly weird-looking, so boys obviously varied. Somehow he’d thought that girls’ parts would be uniform and static, but he was clearly wrong.

Examining Tonks’ aroused chuff was seriously turning him on. The urge to plunge himself into her was almost too strong to resist. If she hadn’t said that ‘oral’ was next he’d be tearing his trousers off right now. But she’d been quite specific about it so he had to give it a try. He still wasn't clear on what was involved though, apart from licking that hooded dome. Fortunately, just as he kissed the valley between her leg and her mound, a very strong impression of what Tonks wanted formed in his mind, including _what_ he should do, _where_ and _how hard_.

Harry was struck by the extraordinary series of events that had led to this moment. If he hadn’t challenged the Headmaster, or sought help from the Minister, or suggested Tonks as his bodyguard, or taken _Occlumency_ lessons from her... he never would have known that he had the ability to read girls’ minds during sex. (Admittedly it wasn’t a superpower he could easily use to fight crime, but it was pretty fucking awesome super power nonetheless.) Nor was it likely he'd be licking Tonks' pussy right now... or any girl's pussy for that matter. How different his life would have been!

Returning his attention to Tonks’ fantasy image, he discovered that there were also some secondary and tertiary desires, but she wanted those considerably less. Those were more like foreplay leading up to the main event, and she very much wanted him to skip straight to the best part.

Naturally, Harry did no such thing. First because he was keen to explore every inch of her gloriously feminine lady parts with his tongue, and second because he wanted her next orgasm to be at least as spectacular as the first. Tonks had said she’d become addicted to giving him erections and now he understood what she meant, because he’d become equally addicted to giving her orgasms. So he resolved to do what he’d done earlier: instead of giving her the fastest climax he could, he’d go for a slow but relentless increase in arousal, and then try to hold her on the very cusp of an orgasm for as long as he could.

Contrary to Harry’s expectation, Tonks wasn’t at all interested in him sticking his tongue inside her. She was far more interested in the hooded apex at the top of her valley, and the tiny pink dome that lay beneath it... which is why he would leave that until last. Instead, he lowered himself onto his elbows, with his head between her thighs. Then he slipped his arms under her thighs and grabbed her hips with both hands.

This is how Tonks had pictured him in her dreams – licking her pussy while his hands roamed around her hips and mound. Harry was more than happy to oblige. He began stroking her amazingly smooth stomach as he lowered his mouth towards her.

It seemed appropriate to Harry that his first kiss on her pussy should be right at the entrance to her inner sanctum. So he positioned his lips carefully and very gently kissed the bright pink indentation that formed the mouth of her vagina.

Tonks jumped in surprise, but Harry’s attention was entirely focussed on the wonderful intimacy of what he’d just done, and the amazing feel of her damp entrance on his lips. It was wonderful, truly wonderful. As he pulled away Tonks moaned and a small trickle of colourless liquid leaked from the hole he’d just kissed.

Conscious that he needed to maintain a certain momentum to distract Tonks from feeling embarrassed about him being down here, he began kissing his way up the outer pussy lip on the left. It felt almost implausibly soft. Harry loved it, and it sent shivers of joy down Tonks’ spine – she began panting in pleasure.

As he approached the top, where her two inner pussy lips joined, Tonks’ breathing became very heavy. Every exhale had a hint of desperation about it. But Harry deliberately avoided the area she wanted him to kiss and circled up over her mound before descending back down the outer lip on the right. Tonks moaned in frustration and bucked her hips in an effort to redirect his attention, but Harry denied her and continued on until he reached her entrance again.

The temptation to lick her was enormous, but Harry resisted. Soon, he promised himself. Soon! First, he wanted to build her excitement once again. It had waned the further he got from the ‘v’ where her inner lips joined.

This time he kissed his way up her inner lips. They were parted but still close enough together that he had to kiss both at the same time. Tonks breathed in sharply, but her reaction was otherwise surprisingly muted. Her excitement was mostly from the anticipation of where he was headed and hope about what he’d do when he got there. Nevertheless, Harry considered this worth doing because his proximity heightened her arousal... and of course Harry himself adored it. Kissing Tonks in such an intimate and personal place was an amazing experience that he’d treasure forever.

Tonks’ inner lips were much smaller than her outer ones, so it wasn’t long before he neared the junction at the top. The aroused girl moaned and went very still, awaiting his touch on her v-shaped hood. The vivid picture coming to him through their connection was of him licking that hood like a lollipop, pushing it upwards to massage what lay beneath with his soft wet tongue. But that would be too much too soon, Harry decided. So he placed the most delicate of kisses on her hood instead.

She cried out in a mix of jubilation and vexation – she loved it but she wanted more! So much more! A new image formed in her head... of scrambling up, yanking Harry’s trousers down, shoving his cock inside her and riding him like an internal pogo stick.

She was getting too frustrated, he realised. ‘ _The girl will let you know if you’re going too slow_ ’, she had said, ‘ _probably by grabbing your knob_ ’. Well, what she was considering sounded like a more extreme version of the same thing.

Harry quickly placed a few firmer kisses on her hood, which he enjoyed enormously, but it wasn’t enough for Tonks. The time had come to do what she’d wanted all along – he placed his tongue on her entrance and started licking up her glistening pink valley. Tonks drew in a single huge breath and then froze.

Not a sound came from her as Harry’s tongue made its ascent up the centre of her pussy, pushing aside her lips as it went. To Harry it felt deliciously intimate, but the emotions he was receiving through the connection were intense. Tonks was displaying no outward sign of pleasure but inside she was completely overwhelmed. She had tiny explosions, like little fireworks, going off between her legs. Shockwaves were spreading out through her body, echoing around in a confusion of arousal that made her head go fuzzy and her nipples go hard. The image of her riding him scattered like morning mist.

When Harry reached half way, Tonks started to tremble and a strained sound emerged from her throat. He’d been planning to stop short of her hood, to prolong things, but he changed his mind. Tonks had completely lost control of her body – she’d become a slave to his tongue. If he failed to follow through this time she’d go beyond frustrated arousal into irritated disappointment. A certain amount of teasing was good, but too much would be counter-productive. So Harry continued his steady progress up her valley, and Tonks’ trembling grew rapidly more pronounced.

When he finally reached the top, he surprised her by continuing straight over the hood, licking it with the entire width of his tongue. Tonks abruptly pulled her arms and legs to her chest in a vast full-body spasm and let out a long fluttering moan.

“Ooooohhhhhhhohohohohoho!”

Harry licked her hood again.

“Ooooohhhhhhhohohohohoho!”

Much larger fireworks were going off between her legs now and her entire body was wracked with involuntary shudders. Harry sensed a kaleidoscope of emotions rolling off her – jubilation, profound shock, and... something like vindication? She was elated at how amazing this felt, along with acute surprise that it felt _so much nicer_ than she’d imagined.

The implications of that weren’t lost on Harry – _she’d never experienced this before_.

That HOST acronym she’d made up wasn’t based on her extensive sexual experience, it was just a _theory_ – something she’d _imagined_ would be the nice, and now knew to be so.

Harry didn’t have time to dwell on the deep sense of satisfaction it gave him to be the first person to do this to her. The momentum of her arousal had to be very carefully controlled or she’d climax too soon. With very precise movements, and constant adjustments, Harry continued to lick her hood just enough to drive her arousal incrementally higher without pushing her over the edge. Tonks’ breathing soon became strained. Her arms and legs fell back to the bed and she groaned in tormented delight.

On and on he went, licking her hood more or less the exact same way, but varying it just so – employing exactly the right change in pace or pressure to sustain a steady escalation. Tonks was soon clutching at the bed covers with whitened knuckles, her head swinging left and right.

“Fucking hell, that feels so good,” she muttered to herself. “So good... So damned good... Oh fuck! OH FUCK!”

Abruptly, she grabbed at her own breasts and started kneading them, twisting and squeezing and pinching her nipples.

“Oh God, I’m cumming! Harry I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”

But she wasn’t cumming, because Harry wouldn’t allow it. He had to stimulate her just right, but again he held her on the very cusp of her climax, just short of tipping over the edge. It would have been impossible without the connection to her mind, but Harry could feel everything she was feeling, so he knew exactly how far to push it.

For half a minute he held her there, her entire body tingling in the bitter-sweet agony and ecstasy of an impending orgasm. Vast spasms swept through the helpless young woman, robbing her of speech. All she could do was whimper and gurgle in euphoric torment.

Finally, the anguish became too much. She began rotating her hips in an effort to make Harry’s ministrations rougher and tip herself over the edge, crying out in desperation.

“Please Harry!” she begged, “Please! Make me cum! I can’t take it anymore!”

But Harry knew it would nicer for her if he didn’t. So he held her there for another half minute. Tonks was reduced to incoherent grunts of pain and pleasure, twisting and turning in torment. Harry had to grab onto her hips to hold her down.

“Huh... Huh... Huh... Huh... Huh... Huh...”

Then, very gradually, Harry began nudging her towards her climax.

“Huh... Huh... Huh... Huh. Huh. Huh... HuhHuhHuh... HuhHuhHuhHuhHuhHuhHuhHuhHuh...”

She was close now – really close. Harry didn’t actually need to do anything more. The momentum of her arousal had become unstoppable. But he kept on doing what he was doing, listening in delight to the sounds of Tonks’ approaching orgasm.

“HuhHuhHuhHuhHuhHuhHuhHuhHuh... Huh... Huh... Huh... Hhhhhuuuuhhhhh...”

For a moment Tonks went completely rigid. Her head flew forwards, staring at Harry in glassy-eye shock. A feeling like nothing she’d ever felt before blossomed forth from between her legs and spread through her body. Every muscle and sinew sang, her entire body vibrating like a tuning fork... and then, abruptly, a truly staggering orgasm exploded in every part of her body at once. Tonks was utterly consumed. Her head flew back and she cried out in shock.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Harry frantically clamped down on the connection, lest he be overwhelmed himself. Tonks’ orgasm was utterly mind-blowing.

On and on she howled, her scream more protracted than any Harry had ever heard. It only ended when her lungs ran out of air, at which point she started shaking violently, as if she were being electrocuted. For a moment Harry was worried she was having a seizure, but his connection told him otherwise. Wave after wave of orgasmic euphoria swept through her, throwing her body around like a rag doll.

For a full minute Harry continued licking her hood gently as she thrashed, heightening and extending her enjoyment. But once he sensed that she’d had enough he withdrew from between her legs and lay down next to her. Tonks seemed completely out of it, but when he put his arms around her she turned towards him and snuggled into his bare chest. Harry held her tight while she shivered and trembled in helpless post-orgasmic exhaustion.

It was a good five minutes before she was able to speak.

“Bloody hell Harry,” she croaked. “I guess I don’t need to tell you where a clitoris is then? Where did you learn how to do _that_?”

“I was following your instructions,” Harry replied. “You said I should take my time.”

Tonks slapped him on the chest, “I didn’t mean that you should try to kill me! Seriously, I thought I was having a heart attack! I’ve never cum so hard in my entire life. I didn’t know it was _possible_ to cum that hard.”

Harry was feeling extremely happy with himself, “I aim to please.”

Tonks lifted herself up on one elbow, “Don’t get smug with me Potter! I can do things that’ll make your toes curl. Things no other girl can do.”

The grin fell from Harry’s face and his eyes widened. He hadn’t thought of that.

“Don’t worry though,” she said as she rose to a kneeling position and started undoing his belt. “I’ll go easy on you, since it’s your first time.”

She finally managed to wrestle his belt loose. His button and zip quickly followed and before he knew it, she’d pulled his trousers and boxers down to his ankles. She paused for a moment to admire his massive erection.

“Hello again,” she growled huskily and quickly resumed pulling his trousers off.

Harry lay in frozen trepidation. This was it! He was about to have sex for the first time! Anxiety waged a three-way war with excitement and extreme horniness, but all three were eclipsed by wonder as he watched the most beautiful girl in the world wriggle out of her dress. When she was done she stood with her hands on her hips, completely naked, looking down at him. The sight took his breath away.

“Stop gawking and get that shirt off,” she ordered impatiently.

Numbly, Harry shrugged his arms out of his shirt and dropped it on the floor. Tonks grinned and crawled up the bed.

“That’s better,” she said, kneeling beside him. “I’ve waited far too long for this...”

She began running her hands up his legs, from his ankles to his thighs. Harry inhaled sharply. The touch of her soft fingers sent little shivers through him. His eyes closed of their own accord as her fingertips danced over his hips and across his abs. A low moan escaped him. He was keen for her to head back south and his cock pulsed hungrily. Tonks giggled but said nothing as her hands circled upwards across his pecs.

For several long minutes Tonks ran her hands over his body, caressing him everywhere except the place he most wanted. Each time she got close his hips lifted of their own accord, and then fell back as she deliberately avoided his privates. The touch of her hands was amazing and Harry loved it, but he was also growing increasingly frustrated.

He opened his eyes and admired Tonks’ amazing naked body, marvelling at her pretty face and the gorgeous curve of her breasts. In her current kneeling position everything else was hidden to him, so he reached out to grab her bum. Tonks slapped his hand and put it back by his side.

“No touching!” she snapped. “It’s my turn!”

Harry growled and did as he was told, but he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself for long.

Tonks’ wonderfully soft hands skimmed over his body once more: across his pecs and abs, over his hips, and down his thighs. Harry’s legs parted of their own volition and Tonks ran her fingertips up his inner thighs. Harry groaned in tormented pleasure. Higher and higher her fingers trailed, leaving tracks of tingling fire in their wake. Harry’s breath caught in his throat. Would she finally touch him this time? He hardly dared to hope. And yet her fingers kept on going, closer and closer to his balls. His cock jumped at the thought and his eyes snapped shut.

Suddenly, unbelievably, Tonks’ amazing fingers were caressing his scrotum! For the first time in his life, a girl was touching his balls! And it felt absolutely incredible. Harry squirmed in delight, his arms and legs twisting and turning as Tonks ran his testicles gently between her fingers. But then, just when he thought the sensations coming from between his legs could get no more intense, her fingers began trailing upwards...

Harry’s eyes snapped open. Great tingling waves ran through his body as the beautiful girl kneeling by his side brushed her fingertips up his scrotum to the base of his cock. He watched in jubilation as she continued up his shaft, sending powerful electric shocks up his spine. His arms and legs jerked involuntarily. But when she reached the head of his penis his eyes rolled back in his head and he gasped out loud.

“Oh God!”

He’d never felt anything like it. Having a stunning naked girl touch his dick was nothing like touching it himself. Nothing at all! It was beyond anything he could have imagined. Unfortunately it was so incredible that he was in danger of losing control. If she kept touching him like that he’d cum all over himself, and that’s definitely not what he wanted.

Tonks was caught completely unawares when Harry leapt up, grabbed her round the waist and rolled on top of her. They came to a halt face to face, with Tonks’ legs wrapped around Harry’s waist and her hands on his chest.

“Oh I’m sorry Harry,” she giggled with transparently fake remorse, “was that a bit frustrating?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, but there was no anger in it. He was rather acutely aware that Tonks’ was lying naked immediately beneath him, with her mound pressed against his stomach and her warm thighs wrapped around his waist. But most of all he was conscious that his cock was mere inches from her pussy.

“Kiss me Harry,” she whispered.

No force on earth could have stopped him. He lowered himself towards her... and as he did so she hooked her ankles behind his bum and forced it down. At the very moment their lips met, his rock-hard penis found her entrance and slipped an inch inside her.

Harry’s eyes went wide and his brain shut down completely. He was utterly overwhelmed by the sensations radiating out from his midriff. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Soft and warm but otherwise indescribable and utterly perfect – the nicest feeling he could ever imagine. A confusing maelstrom of emotions washed over him – his and hers mixed together, as intertwined as their bodies. He tried to close off the connection, but he couldn’t focus. His concentration kept shattering.

Beneath him, Tonks let out a long low groan of satisfaction, “Finally! Thank fuck!”

Her feet pressed down on his hips again, encouraging him to go deeper. Harry was happy to oblige. The only experience he could imagine that might be nicer than being inside her was being _further_ inside her.

As he pushed deeper he felt some resistance, but then it parted. Tonks cried out in pain.

Harry froze, looking down at her in concern, “ _Did I hurt you?_ ”

“No, no it’s fine,” she replied breathlessly. “It was just a bit of a shock, that’s all. Apparently this body doesn’t just _look_ younger... I’d... Well, I’d become a virgin again. Just give me a second...”

Tonks screwed up her face in concentration and muttered, “Cleanup on aisle three...”

Something happened inside her that made Harry go cross-eyed and almost tipped him over the edge.

“All done,” she declared with a smile. “We don’t want things getting messy later! Now, where were we?”

Harry had no idea what she was talking about, but a growing sense of urgency was sweeping over him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out, and he very much wanted to be all the way inside her before something untoward happened. So he began pushing deeper again. Tonks sighed heavily and her eyes drifted shut.

Further and further he pressed, inch after inch of his rigid cock sliding into her, spreading her entrance steadily wider. Waves of blissful euphoria swept through him, from his own body and from hers. They both groaned in delight. Her insides felt incredible, beyond anything he could have imagined.

Now Harry understood what all the fuss was about – why the older boys talked about sex so obsessively. It was because sex was the most amazing thing in the world... and sex with someone as fabulous as Tonks... well, there could never be anything better than that. This was without doubt the most incredible experience of his life, and Harry could think of nobody her would rather share it with.

Overcome with lust and a profound appreciation for the woman who’d brought so much joy into his life, Harry planted his lips on hers and kissed her forcefully. Tonks returned his passion in equal measure, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him tight with her thighs. Harry slid an arm under her neck and lowered his upper body onto hers. The feel of her naked breasts pressed against his chest literally took his breath away.

His attention was drawn away from her fabulous tits by the only thing that could achieve such a feat – his knob had finally reached the back wall of her vagina. He could feel it pressing against the tip of his penis and Tonks flinched slightly, so he stopped pushing. It was truly wondrous to be so deep inside her. The feel of her warm pussy wrapped around his cock was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. How could he ever be happy using his hand again, he wondered, when he could be doing _this_? The two weren’t even in the same league. But he was slightly disappointed that he couldn’t go all the way in. Tonks was about an inch and a half too small to accommodate him.

But then something happened. The pressure on the tip of his dick eased. Tonks broke off their extended kiss.

“Keep going,” she whispered breathlessly in his ear. “I want you all the way inside me.”

Had she made herself bigger? Harry pressed deeper and discovered that she had! With a final thrust, he pushed his dick all the way home and their pubic bones met. He was as deep inside her as he could possibly go. They both sighed in blissful contentment, relishing the feel of each other’s bodies.

Tonks' insides adjusted again to conform exactly to the size of Harry’s cock. But it was too much. The incredible sensations flooding Harry’s mind, the last two weeks of sexual frustration, and his insanely full testicles all conspired against him. A sudden urgency blossomed in his midriff. Oh crap! He was going to cum! He was going to cum already! But they’d only just started! Harry began thrusting into her, knowing that his climax was approaching and hoping that by some miracle he could make her cum straight away too.

But then something strange happened. The sense of urgency began to recede, while Tonks’ excitement began to climb rapidly. Relief swept through him as his premature orgasm faded into the background. His arousal evened-out at a much more manageable level, and then began to rise steadily with each thrust.

In perfect synchronisation they both moaned out loud, “Oh God...”

That’s when Harry realised what had happened. The connection between them had communicated what their bodies were feeling, melding them together. His arousal had fallen and hers had risen until they matched, and now they were tied together in exact lock-step.

With the urgency gone, Harry was able to proceed at a more leisurely pace. He adjusted the speed and depth of his thrusts to reduce the rate at which their mutual arousal increased, and once again settled into the steady and relentless escalation that had worked so well on Tonks’ first two orgasms. As a bonus, this mean he got to enjoy her body for a solid ten minutes before his climax started to build again.

Now he could see why Tonks had cum so hard last time. He could already tell that the approaching orgasm was going to be absolutely enormous. It wasn’t just building in his cock like it did when he used his hand, it was radiating out into his torso and limbs in an ever-widening sphere.

They both started calling out, “Oh God... Oh God... Oh God...”

Harry was overcome with the need to kiss the fabulous woman beneath him. Her lips rose to meet his and their tongues plunged into each other’s mouths. He squeezed her in his arms and she crushed his body to hers. Her knees rose up and she clamped her thighs higher around his chest. This changed the angle of her body, allowing him to press even deeper into her. Tonks threw back her head and raked her nails down his back.

Their mutual excitement jumped up a notch, sending them both into raptures of pleasure. In perfect synchronisation their breathing grew heavier and heavier, each exhalation leaving them in an explosive grunt.

“Huh... Huh... Huh... Huh... Huh... Huh...”

Harry could feel both of their climaxes approaching, their bodies wracked with pre-orgasm spasms. A memory leapt into Harry’s mind – of Tonks saying, ‘you are going to shag me, and you are going to shag me _hard_ ’. So he escalated the pace of his thrusting, pounding his cock into her with increasing force, faster and faster.

The climax that had been building inside her suddenly doubled in ferocity, driving Harry to matching heights of ecstasy. His hips pumped even harder, hammering his rock hard dick into her as fast as he could. Tonks went completely wild, screaming out in pleasure.

“Oh Harry! Oh Harry! Oh Harry!”

The waves of pleasure sweeping through him were so powerful that Harry could barely focus. But he carried on thrusting, impaling Tonks with his penis, rejoicing in the feel of her insides stroking the entire length of his shaft. His body began shuddering violently. Beneath him, Tonks went abruptly rigid, clamping her arms and legs around him.

They were about to cum! They were both about to cum... in perfect synchronisation!

Any thought of pausing on the edge of climax fled his mind. Harry had completely lost control of himself. He was thoroughly consumed by the sensations sweeping through him. The first stirrings of Harry’s approaching ejaculation began to gather in his balls. Oh sweet Merlin, he was about to cum!

Tonks was too. Euphoria swept through them both, growing impossibly intense... beyond anything Harry had ever experienced. His entire body was flooded with delirious rapture...

Tonks began screaming, “Oh God! Harry! Harry! Harry! Harry!Harry!Harry! HarryHarryHarryHARRYHARRYHA...”

For the briefest of moments they were suspended in the eye of the storm... silence reigned and all was still... and then the hurricane crashed down upon them and they were both swept away. Tonks’ vagina contracted violently in orgasm, clamping down on Harry’s cock like a fist. He exploded into her – a massive jet of hot cum squirting deep into her welcoming body.

They both cried out in sweet agony, “AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!”

Purely by instinct, Harry’s hips kept on thrusting. Over and over his penis plunged into her, spraying her insides with hot cum and driving her wild. In perfect unison Tonks’ vagina contracted around his cock, squeezing it like a vice and sending him wild in turn.

Their convulsions meshed perfectly and they both cried out together:

“AAAAaaaahhhhh! AAAAaaaahhhhh! AAAAaaaahhhhh! AAAAaaaahhhhh! AAAAaaaahhhhh! AAAAaaaahhhhh!”

Harry couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. His mind was buffeted on all sides, like a tiny boat on a raging sea. He no longer knew whose emotions he was feeling – his or hers. They all blended into one, their minds as joined as their bodies. The only coherent thought he could hold onto was that this was the best moment of his entire life. He’d never had an orgasm even _close_ to this one, either in duration _or_ intensity. But more important than that, he was sharing it with _Tonks_ – his wonderful beautiful fabulous Tonks – and that made it perfect.

For a full minute he was lost in the storm of their conjoined orgasm, each of them keeping the other going, before their contractions gradually began to fade. Harry slowed his thrusts to a more leisurely pace, enjoying the post-coital feel of her sopping insides around his dick. He couldn’t believe he’d been ejaculating for so long. Tonks was absolutely sloshing with his spaff – he could feel the deep pool of warm liquid inside her as he slid in and out.

Tonks opened her eyes to look up at him. A sudden dread consumed her – an intense fear that he’d abandon her now that they’d had sex.

The very idea shocked him. Abandon Tonks? Never! She was the best thing that had ever happened to him!

He lowered his lips to hers and kissed her. It wasn’t a passionate kiss. It was a tender one, filled with affection, gratitude and appreciation. Very slowly, Tonks’ concern ebbed away and she relaxed.

Their kiss only came to an end because Harry’s treacherous knob started to shrink inside her, making him gasp in discomfort. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling exactly, but the head of his penis was super-sensitive after that incredible orgasm, and the feel of her insides stroking it as it diminished was almost too much.

Tonks seemed mightily amused by his reaction, but stuck out her bottom lip and feigned a pout of disappointment.

Harry had to move. He was also conscious that his body was on top of hers and was probably crushing her. So he gingerly lifted his hips, allowing his cock to slip out of Tonks’ wonderful pussy, causing them both to groan as it fell free. Then he lowered himself to lie down next to her and pulled her tight into his side. Tonks threw an arm over his chest and a leg over his thighs.

They lay in sweaty silence for a few minutes, just holding each other with their bodies entwined.

“Thank you Harry,” she said eventually. “That was wonderful.”

“You’re wonderful,” Harry replied, squeezing her tight. “Best birthday present ever!”

“I’m glad you liked it,” she replied, stroking his chest softly. “And just so you know, when I said you should be a good HOST... I wasn’t really expecting you to do that today. It was more for future reference...”

“ _Seriously?_ ” Harry replied in fake consternation. “Then why tell me _now_? I was terrified I was going to let you down!”

“Well, it’s important to have goals,” she replied cheekily. “And I had to say it before you boinked me or you might have taken offense. Men can be very sensitive about that sort of thing.”

“So what _were_ you expecting?” he wondered.

“For your first time? Not much. Certainly not the three best orgasms I’ve ever had.”

Harry grinned, “Well, I’m glad you liked it. And just so you know... I can do better.”

“Not tonight you can’t,” she replied with a yawn. “I don’t think my heart can take another orgasm like that. On top of which, I’ve already got half a pint of your jizz inside me. This sperm bank is full.”

“But now that I own you,” Harry drawled, “can’t I can do whatever I want with you?”

“What do you mean ‘own me’?” Tonks replied, affronted.

“You gave yourself to me for my birthday,” Harry replied with a grin. “So you belong to me now.”

Tonks’ mouth opened and closed several times.

“That’s not what I meant!” she replied eventually. “I meant you could have sex with me.”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t think so. You said, ‘Your last present is me’. You didn’t say, ‘Your last present is to have sex with me’. The wording was very clear. That’s a verbal contract that is. You’re officially my property now.”

Tonks started slapping him across the chest, “I... am... not... your... property!”

Harry burst out laughing, “Okay okay fine! Jeez. Do you always get this violent after sex?”

“Do you always get this stupid?” she asked sleepily. “Yes of course you do,” her fading voice whispered, “because you’re a man.”

Harry lay perfectly still as her breathing deepened. Within seconds she’d fallen asleep on his chest.

It was the perfect end to a perfect day. He looked down at her beautiful naked body and his heart soared. He was without doubt the luckiest person in the world right now. And she was right – he had indeed become a man.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	19. The War Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a visual idea of how the Press Conference looks and the way Scrimgeour delivers his speech, watch the first minute of the movie Deathly Hallows Part I...
> 
> This chapter has a few snippets of text from HBP, to make the point that not everything will play out differently...
> 
> I have turned off comments for reasons I will explain in the next chapter.

Harry lay awake half the night, marvelling at the wonderful feel of Tonks’ naked body against his and thinking about the amazing sex he’d just had with her. It didn’t take long for his erection to return, and when he finally fell asleep several hours later he still had a painfully hard boner.

Harry woke to the most wonderful thing ever – Tonks’ naked form still draped all over him. She was clinging like a limpet to the side of his body, with her head on his shoulder, her hand on his chest, and one leg across his stomach. Harry had one arm wrapped round her back and one on her waist.

“Too early,” Tonks groaned, “stop moving!”

“Sorry,” Harry replied.

He saw her smile, but she grumbled, “No talking either!” She grabbed his hand and put it on her bum. “There, play with that. Now let me sleep.”

Harry chuckled and stroked her bum as instructed. Tonks sighed and within seconds she was asleep again. Harry carried on stroking her bum. It felt wonderful. This, Harry reflected, was something he could definitely get used to.

Tonks gave a contented, “Mmmmmm” in her sleep, and snuggled in closer.

At some point Harry fell asleep again too. He woke when Tonks sat up and stretched her arms over her head. It did wonderful things to the shape of her boobs.

“Morning Harry.”

“Morning Tonks.”

“We should probably get up – busy day today.”

Harry sighed, “Yeah.”

Neither one of them moved.

“I’m still not sure what to do about the half a pint of your love juice that’s inside me,” Tonks observed.

Harry raised an eyebrow, “ _Love juice?_ ”

“It's just an expression!” Tonks added hastily, “I didn’t mean that you... _Oh shut up Harry!_ ”

Harry smirked.

“Seriously though Harry, how can you produce so much jizz? It’s impossible.”

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “It’s always been like that for me. The first time I knocked one out I had to wipe my entire bedroom down afterwards. I had _literally_ spaffed up the walls. It was even hanging in ropes from the ceiling like pearly Christmas decorations.”

Tonks squealed in amused horror, “You’re kidding!”

“Nope, true story. Is that normal? Guys don’t really chat about this sort of thing...”

“It’s a little erm... _more_ than normal, but I’m not complaining – it felt amazing! Of course it’s not going to be quite so amazing later. If I’m not careful I’ll have your jizz dripping out of me all day.”

Harry tried to suppress his grin, he really did.

Tonks slapped him on the shoulder, “Oh my God, you men are all the same! Stop looking so pleased with yourself you pig!”

“Hey! Don’t blame me!” Harry protested. “You’re the one who milked me dry with your amazing vagina. Those are some crazy-strong muscles you have down there. You could use them to crack walnuts.”

“ _Harry!_ ” Tonks hit him again.

“What? I bet that’s really handy at Christmas. Anyway, isn’t there a spell to deal with your... situation?”

Tonks chose to ignore the first part of his response, “A jizz removal spell, you mean? Oddly enough, no. Not that I’m aware of anyway. Fortunately I’m a _metamorphmagus_ so I can hold it in for now. I just have to remember not to let it go at an unfortunate moment. Like at breakfast... or in the middle of a Press Conference. That would make one hell of a headline wouldn’t it?”

Harry had never actually thought about what happened to a guy’s spunk once it was inside a woman. He certainly hadn’t realised it could just leak out! What kind of stupid design was _that_?

“Come on we better get up!” Tonks declared.

She leapt out of bed and caught sight of herself in the mirror, “Huh.”

“Is something wrong?” Harry asked.

“Not really, it’s just... well I assumed I’d revert back to my twenty-two year old body after last night. I feel more than sated sexually... and yet I still look like a teenager. Weird.”

Harry shrugged. He had no idea what might drive her appearance, but had no complaints either way – Tonks was gorgeous at any age.

After their showers they headed down for breakfast. They were a bit late so everyone else was already there. Harry and Tonks ate in contented silence while everyone else chatted about the usual nonsense. The conversation was interrupted when four owls descended on the house delivering Hogwarts Letters and booklists for Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione. They were all beside themselves with excitement.

Harry opened his envelope and peered inside. To his enormous surprise, alongside the various paperwork there was not one, but _two_ badges. He reached in and grabbed them both, careful to keep them concealed. He put the gold one in his pocket, and then examined the silver one.

He’d been made Quidditch Captain! For a moment he wondered if Dumbledore had done this on purpose to overload him, but decided it was unlikely. Should he accept the Captaincy? Would he have time? He wasn’t sure. In the past he’d probably have declined on the basis that he _probably_ wouldn’t have time. These days, he was more cavalier. Or to put it another way, he mused to himself, less _chicken-shit_. He decided to see how things played out. He could always stand-down later. He also rather liked the idea of having two badges.

Hermione spotted the silver badge in his hand, “Harry, you’ve been made Quidditch Captain! That gives you equal status with prefects! You can use our special bathroom now and everything!”

Ron scowled and muttered under his breath, “Great, there goes my place on the team.”

Harry was about to respond when Ginny interrupted, “Harry, what did you put in your pocket?”

“Nothing,” Harry replied innocently.

“Yes you did. You took something else out of your envelope, and put it in your pocket. I saw you.”

“I’m sure you must be mistaken, Ginny,” said Hermione, “Ron and I are the sixth year prefects, so Harry can’t be a prefect.”

Ginny folded her arms and glared at Harry, “Then Harry won’t mind emptying his pocket will he?”

Everyone looked at Harry. Harry looked at Tonks. She smirked and made no attempt to help him. With a heavy sigh he reached into his pocket and placed the other badge in the centre of the table. It was shaped like a shield with a burgundy background. Emblazoned across the front in gold letters were the words, ‘HEAD BOY’.

A shocked silence fell upon the room and then Hermione shrieked, “ _You’ve_ been made _Head Boy?_ ”

Chaos erupted round the table, with everyone talking at once.

Mrs Weasley exclaimed, “Harry’s Head Boy? _Our_ Harry?” while Bill and Fleur said, “Congratulations Harry” at the same time. Ron spat in disgust, “Bloody typical... Always has to go one better...” while Mr Weasley gave Harry a proud smile, “Well done, Harry! Well done indeed!” Ginny just stared at the badge in disbelief.

“But I don’t understand,” said Hermione, “You’re only a _sixth year_. The head boy is always a _seventh year_.”

Harry leaned forward and glared at her, “Are you saying I haven’t done enough for that tradition to be waived? I haven’t saved the school enough times, or _nearly died_ often enough?”

Hermione paled, “No, of course not! Oh Harry, I’m sorry! That wasn’t what I meant... I was just taken by surprise. Of course you deserve it. Well done, Harry. Congratulations! I’m so pleased for you...”

Harry leaned back but his brow was still furrowed, “Thank you, Hermione.”

She looked relieved, but also crestfallen that she’d insulted him.

“Yes congratulations Harry dear,” Mrs Weasley agreed, though somewhat disapprovingly it seemed to Harry. She scanned Ron’s book list, “Well, I don’t suppose we can put off a trip to Diagon Alley much longer now you’ve got these. We’ll go on Saturday, as long as your father doesn’t have to go into work again. I’m not going there without him.”

“Mum, d’you honestly think You-Know-Who’s going to be hiding behind a bookshelf in Flourish and Blotts?” asked Ron grumpily.

“Fortescue and Ollivander went on holiday, did they?” said Mrs Weasley, firing up at once. “If you think security’s a laughing matter you can stay behind and I’ll get your things myself!”

“No, I wanna come, I want to see Fred and George’s shop!” said Ron hastily.

“Then you just buck up your ideas, young man, before I decide you’re too immature to come with us!” Mrs Weasley replied angrily. She snatched up her clock (all nine hands of which were pointing at mortal peril) and balanced it on top of a pile of just-laundered towels. “And that goes for returning to Hogwarts, as well!”

Ron stared incredulously while his mother hoisted the laundry basket and the teetering clock into her arms and stormed out of the room.

“Blimey... you can’t even make a joke round here anymore...”

As Hermione rose to head up to her room, Tonks jumped up.

“Oh Hermione, could I ask a favour? I need you to do some research for me.”

Without waiting for a reply, Tonks pulled Hermione into the corner of the room and whispered in her ear. Hermione’s face went bright crimson and she bolted up the stairs. Tonks returned to the table as if nothing had happened.

“What was that about?” asked Ginny.

Tonks smiled innocently, “I just need some help with a little problem I’m having.”

Mr Weasley rose from his chair, “Harry, might I have a word?”

Harry started. What on earth could this be about? He stood up woodenly and followed Mr Weasley into the lounge.

The jovial man smiled reassuringly.

“There’s a lot going on in your life right now Harry,” he began. “Lots of new... responsibilities, and I’m conscious that you don’t have a father to guide you. I just wanted to let you know that if you ever need any advice, you can come to me. I’m not quite as clueless as I generally make out you know...”

“You’re not?” Harry replied.

Mr Weasley raised an eyebrow.

Harry winced, “Sorry. That came out wrong. I meant to say that I’ve noticed, but I’m surprised you’re admitting it.”

Mr Weasley grinned, “You’d be amazed what people will do and say if they think you’re a bumbling idiot. It’s like I’m invisible. But this is my home, Harry. I know everything that’s going on inside it.”

Harry swallowed heavily, “You do?”

“Yes I do, and here’s my first bit of advice – _plausible deniability_ is your friend, Harry. In any situation, ask yourself what would be the outcome if you did something. Not what you _hope_ the outcome would be, but what would the _actual_ outcome be? If that’s not the outcome you want then perhaps it would be better to feign ignorance and do nothing. The recent outbreak of skimpy clothing would be a good illustration... I can _imagine_ my diplomatic intervention bringing both sides together in harmonious compromise... but what would _actually_ happen is that both sides would be unhappy with _any_ compromise and they’d all blame me. Nothing good would come of me getting drawn into that debate. Fortunately, a happily married old duffer like me would never notice young women wearing skimpy clothes, so the problem does not arise.”

Harry blinked in surprise, and then grinned, “I understand, Mr Weasley.”

Mr Weasley smiled paternally, “Good lad. Exercising responsibility isn’t about micro-managing those around you. It’s about helping them find their own way to happiness. Sometimes the best thing to do... is to do nothing. Like if two of the young adults under my roof became very close, in a way that did nobody any harm... well then I see no reason why I would need to get involved in that. I would simply wish them well.”

The colour drained from Harry’s face. Mr Weasley knew that Harry and Tonks were having sex! But wait, Mr Weasley had said ‘young _adults_ ’... which meant he also knew that Harry was emancipated! Harry hadn’t told anyone yet, apart from Tonks, so Mr Weasley must have heard about it at the Ministry...

Mr Weasley gave Harry his best ‘harmless old fool’ smile, and then winked.

Harry goggled. Not only had Mr Weasley covertly given Harry and Tonks his blessing, but he’d presumably kept Harry’s emancipation a secret from Dumbledore, while maintaining plausible deniability on both counts.

Mr Weasley patted him on the shoulder, “It’s nice to see Tonks so happy. She’s a lovely girl. Right, I better get off to work. Have a good day Harry!”

With that, he strode back into the kitchen, bid everyone farewell and headed out the door.

In a bit of a daze, Harry returned to his seat. His respect and affection for the Weasley patriarch had risen even higher, but how had the man known about Harry and Tonks? He couldn’t have heard them having sex. If he _had_ someone else would surely have heard too. Looking round the table everyone was behaving perfectly normally. Well, except for Tonks, who was practically glowing with happiness and kept shooting Harry contented little smiles. But everyone else looked completely...

Oh.

That’s what Mr Weasley had noticed. While Mrs Weasley was bustling around cooking and serving breakfast, and everyone else was tucking in and gossiping, Mr Weasley had observed them all silently from the end of the table and noticed the change in Tonks’ behaviour. Mr Weasley gave the impression that he was absent-minded and clueless, but he didn’t miss a thing.

Harry resumed eating his breakfast, wondering if anyone else knew how wily Mr Weasley actually was.

At that moment Fleur caught his eye. Her gaze flicked to Tonks, back to Harry, and then she smiled enigmatically. Oh crap! That’s two people who knew! Harry stared fixedly at his plate for the rest of the meal.

Later, as Harry and Tonks headed back to their room something occurred to him.

“So what _did_ you ask Hermione?” he wondered.

Tonks smirked, “I asked her if there’s a spell for removing half a pint of jizz from a girl’s vagina.”

Harry gave her a shocked look.

“I know, I know! I’m sorry Harry, but Hermione’s just so damned cute when she’s flustered.”

Harry shook his head in exasperation, “Tonks, you’re awful!”

Tonks grinned cutely, “I can’t help myself... it’s an illness.”

Harry sighed in defeat, “Come on, we better get ready. The Press Conference is in an hour.”

Everyone else seemed to have forgotten that Harry had mentioned Press Conferences. Presumably they were under the impression that Dumbledore had cancelled them. Harry was actually rather curious to see what Dumbledore had up his sleeve. He’d no doubt asked Mrs Weasley to restrict Harry’s access to the floo. The flower pot with the floo powder in it had long since disappeared from the mantelpiece, he’d noticed. But what else?

Tonks pulled a set of brand-new Auror robes from her wardrobe and put them on. Harry had never actually seen her in Auror robes before. She looked quite formidable apart from the whole ‘cute teenage babe’ thing. But then she changed her appearance to that of a serious-looking thirty-something woman with plain brown hair, and she looked downright scary.

“You can change your appearance easily again?” asked Harry.

Tonks grinned, “Yeah, my subconscious seems satisfied with the heavy pounding you gave me last night.”

“So you’re cured?” he wondered, a little disappointed.

Tonks shrugged, “Maybe, but I think we better continued the treatment... just in case.”

Harry tried to affect a nonchalant look, but inside he was elated. Sex with Tonks was easily the most amazing thing ever; if she’d said it was a one-time thing for his birthday he’d have been totally crushed. With a huge sense of relief he focussed on gathering his clothes for the day.

They’d discussed what Harry should wear to the Press Conference with Scrimgeour, and decided that it should be something that would inspire confidence and make Harry look older than his years. Aurors were generally undercover when they were out in the field, so they rarely wore their uniforms outside of ceremonial occasions. Nevertheless, they did have a uniform. It had quite a military look to it, and came in different colours depending on rank. In a fight it would be completely useless, but it definitely looked impressive.

Harry had argued in favour of something more functional – dragonhide boots and trousers with a white shirt, dragonhide waistcoat and full-length overcoat. He’d seen an old photograph of a Macusa Auror wearing that in a newspaper article once and thought it looked both effective and seriously cool. Unfortunately Scrimgeour had argued that while it was undoubtedly more effective in a fight, it wouldn’t create the right impression with the public. There was a reason soldiers had different uniforms for the field and the parade ground, he’d said. This Press Conference was effectively a _parade_ – they needed to _look_ impressive, so they needed the ceremonial uniform. Since the Press Conference was Scrimgeour’s baby, Harry bowed to his preference and they went for the ceremonial uniform. Harry did get Winky to order him a custom-made set of the dragonhide Macusa-style gear for other occasions though, because why not.

The Minister had a set of Auror uniforms made just for Harry and Tonks. They were modelled on the design of the Head of the Auror Office’s formal robes, but with a much plainer appearance. They didn’t want to go overboard with the parade-ground look. This would be a sombre occasion not a celebration. For colour, they decided that both Harry’s and Tonks’ robes should be entirely charcoal grey. The darker colours tended to be the more senior, so this conveyed a certain prestige, while being a colour that was not currently associated with any particular rank. It would keep people guessing about Harry’s status – the Ministry was implying that he was an Auror, without actually stating it.

Once Harry had donned his uniform, he checked-out his new look in the mirror. It was... well it was fucking awesome to be honest. It made him look extremely serious – like he meant business and shouldn’t be messed with. He particularly liked the jacket, which was straight-cut and buttoned all the way up to a standing collar at his neck.

“What sort of collar is this?” he asked Tonks over his shoulder.

“It’s called a choker,” she replied. “Not to be confused with other types of choker.”

“Other types?”

“Don’t worry about it Harry. Ask Hermione when you’re older. She’ll probably have several by then...”

Harry had the distinct impression that someone was being mocked, but he wasn’t sure who. He returned his attention to the uniform.

“I like it,” he decided. “What do you think, Tonks?”

“I think we need to do something about the mop on your head that you call hair,” she declared, approaching him with a jar of something in her hands. She dunked a couple of fingers into the jar, smeared the sticky contents around on her palms, and then applied it liberally to Harry’s hair.

“This is Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion. It was invented by your Grandfather, Fleamont Potter, to ‘tame even the most bothersome barnet’.”

“How do you know _that_?” Harry wondered as she began styling his hair with her fingers.

“It says so on the jar,” she replied, stepping back. “Right, let’s have a look at you... Perfect!”

Harry checked his hair in the mirror.

“Wow,” was all he could say. He hardly recognised himself. For the first time in his life he didn’t look like he’d just woken up and been dragged through a bush backwards. His hair looked shiny! Tonks had moulded it into a loosely slicked-back style that gave him a severe and dangerous air.

“You look badass, Harry!” she enthused, “and damned sexy. I think we nailed it... and I’d quite like to nail you right now actually. I suspect I won’t be the only one either – I’ll be beating the women off you with a stick.”

Harry grinned, “Brilliant! That’s what I was going for actually.”

Tonks snorted and rolled her eyes, “Sure you were, Romeo. Come on, let’s go.”

Harry and Tonks headed down just as Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Mrs Weasley were gathering in the kitchen for lunch. Mrs Weasley heard them coming down the stairs, “Ah Harry, just in time! Take a seat. I’ve made a lovely...”

She fell silent and gawped at him. The others all turned to look.

“Holy _crap_!” exclaimed Ginny.

Neither Mrs Weasley nor Hermione scolded her for language. Even Ron was lost for words.

“We’re just nipping out for a Press Conference,” said Harry. “See you all in a few hours.”

Mrs Weasley made a very clear move to block the floo, but Harry and Tonks went straight out the back door. Mrs Weasley came running after them, but was too late: Tonks side-along apparated them both straight to the front steps of the Ministry.

This was part of Harry’s deal with Scrimgeour – that he would be _seen_ entering the Ministry from time to time. The Press Conference was being held in the Entrance Hall, so a huge crowd of journalists and photographers was gathered on the steps waiting to be allowed in.

Tonks started forging a path through the crowd, “Coming through! Make a space. Step aside. Coming through! Thank you!”

Heads turned and within seconds they were mobbed.

“Harry Potter!”

“Why are you here?”

“Who are you meeting?”

“Do you have a statement for the Press?”

“ _Are_ you the Chosen One?”

Questions came from every direction. Half a dozen Ministry security guards descended on the crowd and made a path for Tonks and Harry to pass through. When Harry finally emerged, he ascended to the top of the steps and turned to face the Press. The shouting died down.

“Hi everyone!” he shouted. “Thanks for coming. The Minister and I will begin the Press Conference in a moment. That should answer most of your questions. See you all shortly.”

He smiled warmly and waved. Cameras flashed wildly all around him. That would be a feature photo for sure – Harry standing on the Ministry steps waving. He turned and followed Tonks into the building.

Scrimgeour was waiting just inside. He shook Harry’s hand and they both smiled. Harry felt they had a genuine respect for each other now, maybe even a friendship, albeit one founded on getting something they needed from the other. Cameras flashed at them through the Ministry windows – another feature photo. The papers loved getting these supposedly candid shots. Harry and Scrimgeour strolled away towards the other end of the atrium. Scrimgeour put his hand on Harry’s shoulder and more cameras flashed wildly behind them – another feature photo. Harry chuckled. Scrimgeour was definitely milking this for all it was worth.

“Any problems getting away Harry?”

“No. Smooth sailing thanks Rufus. What do you think of the uniforms?”

“Excellent, excellent... just what we need, I think.” They arrived at the podium and turned to face the empty atrium. “We’ll let the jackals through in just a moment. As we discussed, I’ll start, then hand over to you.”

“Understood. Right, let’s do this!” Harry said with more bravado than he actually felt. He had no particular fear of public speaking, but neither did he relish the limelight. He was only doing this because he had to.

Scrimgeour waved to the security guards holding the doors. All six of them were pulled open at once. A flood of humanity poured through and sprinted toward them. Harry was convinced he was going to be trampled, but a wall of security guards formed in front of him and held back the tide. The atrium quickly filled up to capacity. Harry wondered who all these journalists wrote for. Apart from the Prophet, the Quibbler, the WWN and Witch Weekly he wasn’t aware of any other Wizarding news media. Maybe each one had sent all their reporters?

They were certainly a dour lot. Stretched out in front of him was a sea of greys and browns, not a single bright colour anywhere... with just one exception – standing out like a sore thumb in cyan robes and elaborately curled golden-blonde hair was Rita Skeeter. She was looking quite foxy actually, for an older woman... so Harry gave her a saucy wink. Her mouth dropped open in shock.

Once the reporters had settled, the security guards withdrew and Scrimgeour stepped up to the podium. He quickly thought better of it and stepped in front of the podium instead. Harry stood to one side, hands behind his back like a soldier standing at ease. Cameras flashed as Scrimgeour began to speak.

_These are dark times, there is no denying._

His deep and powerful voice filled the atrium. For the first time, Harry got a glimpse of the Scrimgeour that everyone else saw. He sounded formidable and scary... dangerous even – definitely not someone you wanted to mess with. This wasn’t the indecisive person Harry had seen at their first meeting – _this_ Scrimgeour looked and sounded like a leader. His booming words settled like a thick blanket upon the audience, weighed down by the status of his office and Scrimgeour’s considerable person gravitas.

_Our world has perhaps... faced no greater threat... than it does today._

Harry marvelled at how well the Minister delivered his speech. He had no notes in front of him, it was all from memory, but it would seem spontaneous to the audience. Even more subtle was his use of dramatic pauses. Each sentence was punctuated with a heavy pause at the most critical moment – not at the end of a sentence, like you’d expect, but in the middle. It added tremendous weight to his words. Scrimgeour was quite a gifted orator.

 _But I say this to our citizenry: We... ever your servants...  
_ _Will continue to defend your liberty...  
_ _And repel the forces that seek to take it from you!  
_ _Your Ministry... remains... strong!_

Harry nodded, expressing his solidarity with Scrimgeour’s words for the benefit of the reporters. That was the rousing introduction, Harry knew. Next would be the ‘call to action’ that Harry and Scrimgeour had agreed.

 _This is only the beginning... This is only the first sip...  
_ _The first foretaste of a bitter cup...  
_ _which will be proffered to us year upon year...  
_ _Unless we rise up and make our stand for freedom!_

 _We must be united against this enemy.  
_ _We have faced him before... We know the villainy of which he is capable.  
_ _And so we know... that he will not stop...  
_ _UNLESS... WE... STOP HIM!_

Scrimgeour’s powerfully raised voice echoed deafeningly around the atrium. When the reverberations faded away he spoke again, more quietly.

 _You have appointed me... to this great office...  
_ _To defeat this enemy... And I tell you... that I will not fail you.  
_ _But we have before us... an ordeal of the most grievous kind.  
_ _We have before us... many long months... of struggle and suffering._

 _You ask, what is our policy? And I say this: it is to WAGE WAR!  
_ _With all our might... we will wage war against this monstrous tyrant.  
_ _Because upon this great struggle... hangs the survival of our civilisation.  
_ _Upon this battle... depends our very way of life._

 _Nevertheless... our brave Aurors... undaunted by the odds...  
_ _Unwearied... by their constant challenge... and mortal danger...  
_ _Will turn the tide of this conflict...  
_ _By their prowess... and by their devotion._

His voice rose again, projecting his words into every corner of the enormous space:

 _And WE THE PEOPLE... will SUPPORT THEM...  
_ _With everything that we have!  
_ _With our blood... and our sweat... and our tears... we will support them.  
_ _Because our victory... or our defeat... will rest in their hands._

Scrimgeour paused for several seconds, and then continued much more quietly, as if hesitant to speak the rest out loud:

 _But that is not all...  
_ _We face an enemy... so steeped in evil... that some say he cannot die.  
_ _You may have heard of a prophecy... and a Chosen One...  
_ _You may have heard... that only the Chosen One can defeat him._

The audience had been quiet throughout Scrimgeour’s speech, but now there was complete and utter silence. No cameras flashed, no quills scratched. This was beyond anything they had expected to hear. Politicians didn’t talk about difficult subjects. Not ever. It was thoroughly unheard of. You could have heard a pin drop as Scrimgeour broached a subject none of them had expected him to even acknowledge.

 _And so... in the name of the people...  
_ _I have spoken with our rumoured saviour. I have spoken with Harry Potter.  
_ _And I have come to the conclusion... reluctantly I admit...  
_ _That he is indeed... the Chosen One._

Gasps rippled through the crowd, but Scrimgeour spoke over them:

 _As your servant I ask... is it prudent... however much we might desire it...  
_ _to turn our backs upon the truth? I say no!  
_ _And so... ladies and gentlemen of the Press...  
_ _I give you the truth! I give you HARRY POTTER!_

Scrimgeour backed away, surrendering the stage, and all eyes turned to Harry. He approached the podium, and unlike Scrimgeour he did actually use it. He placed the parchment containing his speech upon the lectern, then put his hands on the front corners of the wooden rostrum and leaned forwards to inspect his audience. It was a pose he’d seen Dumbledore use, on occasion. It projected strength, confidence, and self-belief. Cameras flashed.

“Thank you, Minister, and thank you ladies and gentlemen of the Press for coming here today. These are indeed dark times. We are under attack, and already some of our citizens have lost their lives. I myself lost a loved one just a few weeks ago. War has once again been declared upon our society and death has come to our shores.”

“Fifteen years ago, this same enemy attempted to destroy us, and almost succeeded. We must not repeat the mistakes of the past. We must recognise that _we are at war_ , and that victory will be hard won. But we should also realise that the greater our resolve, the sooner we will triumph. That is why I fully support the Ministry’s Declaration of War against the organisation known as the Death Eaters, and the individual who calls himself Lord Voldemort.”

Screams and gasps echoed around the hall. Harry waited for the noise to die down.

“As the Minister mentioned, there have been rumours of a prophecy. I can tell you that those rumours are true – there is indeed a prophecy.”

A ripple of shocked muttering filled the room.

“There are also rumours of a ‘Chosen One’ who can defeat our enemy... and that I am that ‘Chosen One’...”

Harry paused and let that statement hang in the air before he resumed, “Those rumours... are also true.”

Gasps and shrill whispers filled the room.

“For much of this year our enemy has been trying to gain access to the prophecy. We have been working very hard to prevent that, for fear that he might derive some advantage from hearing it. However, the Minister and I have discussed it at length... and we have decided that the citizens should know the truth. You deserve to know what the prophecy says. You deserve to know what we’re up against. So ladies and gentlemen, here it is, the prophecy in full, as it was given in 1980.”

The entire audience edged forwards, hanging on Harry’s every word. His voice echoed ominously in the silent Atrium:

 _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...  
_ _Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...  
_ _And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...  
_ _And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...  
_ _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._

Absolute pandemonium broke out. Cries of dismay mixed with countless screamed questions. It took several minutes for order to be restored.

“Prophecies can be tricky things,” Harry resumed, “but it’s hard to escape the conclusion that only I can defeat this enemy. Indeed, I have faced him five times, and I can tell you that he is a _formidable_ opponent. It is clear to the two of us now, I think, that it will ultimately come down to him versus me. Our fates were sealed the day he killed my parents and ‘marked me as his equal’.” Harry pointed at the scar on his forehead. “But as he will realise, when he hears the prophecy, _he himself_ has forged the weapon that will ultimately destroy him.”

Harry’s voice rose, his tone angry and determined. “ _So I accept the role of the Chosen One, and I do it gladly. For my parents, for my Godfather, and for all those that we have lost, I will face this enemy and I will send him to the grave he so richly deserves!_ ”

A profound silence fell upon the room. Quills stopped scratching and cameras stopped flashing. Harry’s eyes scanned over the crowd, daring them to doubt him. His gaze was as cold and as hard as steel. Voldemort had taken too much from him already. It was time for Harry to take the war to Voldemort. It was time for Death Eaters to start dying. _It was time to end this._

Harry’s voice dropped low. The audience almost had to strain to hear him. “These few who seek to subjugate us think they can murder and terrorise, and yet still walk among us with impunity.” Harry’s voice rose. “Let us show them how wrong they are!” Harry’s fist crashed down on the podium with deafening boom, “This land is our _home_! This is where we raise our children and live our lives _in peace_ , but they seek to take that from us.”

He was shouting now, “ _Will we let them?_ Will we meekly stand aside and let them murder those we love? _No we will not_ , because our enemy has made a grave mistake! We are not sheep who wait meekly for the slaughter. We are _witches and we are wizards_. To our enemies this is not a land of peace _IT IS THE LIONS’ DEN!_ What do lions do when an enemy enters their territory? _They unite and they destroy that enemy completely._ So we will bring _UNHOLY WAR_ down upon these Death Eaters, and we will wipe them from the face of the earth. Let it be known the world over that those who attack us in our home will find nothing but cold oblivion here.”

In the shocked silence that followed, Harry abruptly switched to his normal speaking volume. “To the citizens of the Wizarding World I say this: Support your Minister! Support your Ministry! Together we – the Minister, the Ministry and I – have the resolve to do what’s required to defeat this enemy and win this war. With your support we will do so. Thank you.”

The room erupted as reporters screamed questions at him and the Minister. A deafening tidal wave of sound buffeted them. Scrimgeour stepped forward and put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. He waited patiently until the noise subsided, and then he spoke again.

“As of this moment, Wizarding Britain is at war. In recognition of the unique role that Harry Potter will play, I yesterday gave the order for Harry to be emancipated. He is now legally an adult, and can perform magic at will. As of today, the Auror department has been given authorisation to use deadly force against suspected Death Eaters, including the Unforgivable Curses. Harry has also been given authorisation to do so. Furthermore, any citizen is hereby authorised to use the Killing Curse in defence of themselves or their family, against any individual wearing Death Eater robes. Please standby for further announcements. Thank you.”

The room descended into total chaos.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who’s taken a moment to hit the Kudos button. I’m writing this story for you guys!
> 
> There are currently 6400 Harry Potter fanfics on AO3 with more Kudos than this one. If everyone who’s faithfully reading every chapter of this story hit the Kudos button it would make the top 400. Just saying...


	20. Direction and Misdirection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was getting abuse on FFN so I’ve deleted the M-rated version of the story from there. In case any of the FFN trolls attempt to follow me onto AO3 (which happened to a writer friend of mine) I’ve disabled all comments on here too. It’s a shame because the feedback from you guys was a great motivator and you gave me ideas I hadn’t thought of.

Security guards ran forward to restrain the surging audience. Reporters screamed themselves hoarse trying to get their questions heard, but Harry and Scrimgeour ignored them. They shook hands again, to a flurry of camera flashes, and then strode off toward the Minister’s office like two old friends, closely followed by half a dozen Aurors, cameras flashing constantly behind them.

Once they were safely alone on Scrimgeour’s office, Tonks reverted to her teenage self and Harry breathed out heavily. Scrimgeour poured three Firewhisky’s and handed them round, “I think that went well.”

Harry nodded, “I agree. You’re a gifted speaker, Rufus. If the Press and the people don’t back us after that speech... we may as well give up now and move to the Bahamas.”

“You weren’t so bad yourself, Harry. Grab a seat; you too Tonks. Relax for a few minutes. We might not get the chance again anytime soon. Whichever way things go, the next few days will be hectic.”

Harry could see relief written across Scrimgeour’s face. He felt much the same himself, actually. He’d projected a lot more confidence during his speech than he actually felt, because that was the whole point of the Press Conference – to reassure the population. There would be no point doing it if he was going to be all humble.

Nevertheless, he _was_ actually quite hopeful that Voldemort would be defeated. Not because his recent victories had made him more confident, but because his goals were so modest. Harry’s aim was wasn’t to kill Voldemort _permanently_ it was just to deprive him of a body until a more permanent solution could be found. With the full backing of the Ministry that was a very achievable objective, especially if they could disrupt or destroy Voldemort’s support base. There was also the chance that they’d flush Voldemort out and someone else would hit him with a fatal curse, thus saving Harry the trouble. If Harry’s goal had been to kill Voldemort permanently with just his school friends to help him, he’d be feeling a lot less optimistic.

In the meantime, Harry’s work for today was not yet complete. He wasn’t just here to reassure the population. He also had to keep Scrimgeour moving in the right direction. With the Press Conference that Scrimgeour had desired so desperately finally under his belt, it was possible that the Minister might not follow through on the measures they needed to implement to actually win this war.

As the three of them relaxed into their usual seats in front of the fire Harry gathered his thoughts in readiness. Scrimgeour seemed to value Harry's input regarding Dumbledore and Voldemort, and some encouraging words might go a long way towards shoring up the Minister’s resolve. Despite that, Harry had no illusions about Scrimgeour seeing Harry as any sort of equal. He was just a resource – Scrimgeour’s only insight into what his competitors might be up to.

“You still think that disclosing the prophecy was the right move?” Scrimgeour asked.

Harry nodded without hesitation, “Yeah, I do. It was an unprecedented display of honesty, and the public will appreciate that. It gives me undeniable legitimacy as the ‘Chosen One’, and it’ll enhance your reputation for being open and trustworthy. If people believe in us they’ll be more likely to accept some of the things we’re going to do. It also completely relieves everyone else of the burden of having to deal with Voldemort – they can just let me handle him. The British Wizarding public loves to leave all the hard work to someone else, so they’ll grab onto that with both hands.”

Scrimgeour chuckled in amusement, “They do rather favour that approach yes...”

Harry took a sip of Whisky, “Dumbledore will go ape-shit of course. That’s mostly because he’s obsessed with secrecy for secrecy’s sake, but he also thinks it’ll give Voldemort some vital information. I’ve thought about it many times, and I just can’t see any downside to Voldemort knowing what the prophecy says. He knew the first two lines already, and the last line is basically the same as the first, so it all comes down to lines three and four. The ‘marking me as his equal’ bit will probably enrage him, because he’ll realise that he never should have attacked me in the first place. If he hadn’t, he’d never have ‘marked me’ and the prophecy would have been broken. In fact he’d have won the last war and he’d be sitting in this office right now instead of us. That will make him think twice about everything he does from now on. He’ll also agonise over what it means by ‘equal’. He’s obsessed with being the best, because he’s fundamentally a coward. That’s why he avoids anyone who might be his equal.”

“You think so?” Scrimgeour asked sceptically.

“I do,” Harry confirmed. “Look at how he avoids Dumbledore! Dumbledore isn’t even his equal, but he’s close enough that Voldemort won’t risk it.”

“And what about the rest of the prophecy?” the Minister enquired.

“The ‘either must die at the hand of the other’ part tells him that he has to kill me himself. I’m pretty sure he already knows that, and he’s been trying to kill me all along, so it doesn’t exactly change anything. In fact it might reduce the chance of his Death Eaters taking pot-shots at me, which will help me out. That leaves us with the ‘power he knows not’. That’s the part Dumbledore must be worried about. Presumably he’s thinking that Voldemort will figure out what that power is and neutralise it. But frankly, I think that’s unlikely. If Dumbledore’s right and it’s ‘love’ then Voldemort’s had plenty of hints about that already. When he tried to possess me during our fight in the Atrium recently, the love I felt for my parents and Sirius caused him tremendous pain. If he hasn’t got it after that blatant clue he’s never going to. But if he _has_ figured it out already then we didn’t tell him anything new did we?”

Harry chose his words carefully now. He didn’t want to give any hint that Voldemort’s defeat fifteen years ago had been his mother’s doing rather than his own.

“Personally, I think Voldemort’s already figured it out. In the Little Hangleton graveyard he talked about an ‘old magic’ which he’d overlooked, and which prevented him from touching me. He said that’s why he went to such lengths to trap me in fourth year – he wanted to use my blood in the ritual that recreated his body. By doing so he thought he would neutralise the problem, and sure enough he can touch me now. But when I told Dumbledore about that his eyes flashed in triumph. Dumbledore knows more about this sort of magic than Voldemort, so I think Voldemort has miscalculated. I don’t know _how_ , because of course Dumbledore hasn’t told me, but I’m pretty certain of it. So, all in all, what have we lost by telling Voldemort the prophecy? Nothing. But we’ve gained plenty. I think we did the right thing.”

Scrimgeour swirled the whisky in his glass thoughtfully, “I’m inclined to agree. It’s imperative that the populace believe in the Ministry. The two of us standing together and revealing the prophecy achieved that goal handsomely, while also providing a roadmap for how we’ll bring You-Know-Who down. How do you think Dumbledore will react?”

Harry shrugged, “He’ll probably do nothing straight away. He avoids confrontation like the plague and prefers to think things through before he acts. When he does, he operates in the shadows, using proxies and subtle manipulation to get his way. He never goes head-to-head with those who challenge him. Half the time he does absolutely nothing, as far as I can tell. When Lucius Malfoy got Hagrid thrown into Azkaban in my second year, for example, Dumbledore didn’t confront Malfoy and did nothing to get Hagrid out. When Lucius arranged for Buckbeak to be executed in my third year, Dumbledore got Hermione and me to break the Law to save the poor creature instead of doing anything himself. When someone ordered me killed by Dementors in fifth year, the Headmaster did nothing to identify them. That left Umbridge free to torture me and others for the rest of the year, and eventually get Dumbledore himself thrown out of his own school. At no point did he make any attempt to stop her.”

“And yet Dumbledore is still around,” Scrimgeour observed. “He always seems to win in the end.”

“Indeed,” Harry agreed. “And that’s the problem. All the Headmaster cares about is winning the _final_ battle. He doesn’t mind losing a hundred skirmishes along the way. Fudge ran rings around Dumbledore for years, wreaking havoc, but I’ve never seen anyone look as smug as Dumbledore did when he finally defeated Fudge. I wouldn’t call that a victory myself, given the price we paid, but the Headmaster takes no account of who gets hurt or killed while he’s working towards his eventual triumph. He’s like the King in a game of chess – he stays safe while everyone else does all the fighting, so it’s always other people who come to harm. Fortunately, his reticence should actually work in my favour for once – I’m fairly confident that whatever he does won’t inconvenience us much. If he does _anything at all_ , that is. Most likely he’ll want to find out what Voldemort’s reaction is and then pace around his office for a few weeks pondering on it...”

The Minister chuckled quietly, “I hope you’re right. The last thing we need is Dumbledore working against us. He's a canny foe, and this is one fight where the final outcome is rather critical, I think you’d agree. What about the rest of the Press Conference?”

Harry gave a satisfied smile, “I think we struck the right balance. We both sang from the hymn sheet that people wanted to hear, without divulging too many specifics about what we’d do. It will also look like I’m the young militant while you’re the experienced and conservative ‘safe pair of hands’. That should give everyone something to get behind. Some, like the Order of the Phoenix, will be concerned that I’m too militant of course... but that should work well for us. While they’re trying to rein me in you should have a free hand to pursue a more ‘conservative’ agenda. Hardly anyone will notice that your conservative agenda is vastly more militant than they would have accepted if they didn’t have me to focus on.”

“That’s rather devious Harry,” Scrimgeour noted shrewdly. “Are you sure you don’t want a career in politics?”

“God no,” Harry replied emphatically. “I have no head for it. I learned that particular trick from Fudge – while Dumbledore and I were fighting Dolores Umbridge, he had a free hand to do whatever he liked. The man was a buffoon, but he had a real gift for getting what he wanted.”

They continued chatting until they’d finished their drinks and then said their goodbyes.

Tonks led Harry to the Atrium, then side-along apparated him back to the Burrow.

\- § -

They walked into the kitchen to find a rather irate Mrs Weasley waiting for them. The others must have got bored waiting, Harry guessed. He was rather glad of that, to be honest. He didn’t feel like dealing with Hermione or Ron right now.

“Harry dear! I thought I told you that Dumbledore had sorted out this silly Press Conference business!”

“Yes you did Mrs Weasley but I thought I’d go along just to be sure. It’s a good job I did. Dumbledore hadn’t sorted it out at all. Everyone was waiting for me! Can you imagine if I’d just _not turned up?_ The Minister would have been publicly humiliated. I don’t know what Dumbledore was thinking. Is he trying to get me thrown into Azkaban?”

Mrs Weasley was completely thrown, “No of course not! I don’t understand... He told me he’d sort it...”

“Well, no harm done,” Harry said brightly. “We had a pretty good time, didn’t we Tonks? The Minister’s ever so nice – didn’t ask me to do much at all really. Just read out a short statement he’d prepared for me – simple. Anyway, I need to get out of these formal robes. See you later!”

\- § -

Harry and Tonks came down for dinner a few hours later to find the table full. Mrs Weasley had laid out a huge spread, but nobody had started eating yet (not even Ron) and the mood seemed tense.

“There will be no discussion of today’s events until we’ve all enjoyed the meal that Molly has prepared for us,” Mr Weasley declared, deliberately looking at Hermione then Ron then Ginny.

All three of them looked fit to burst, but grumbled or nodded their reluctant agreement.

Conversation was muted while everyone ate. There was clearly an elephant in the room and nobody was quite able to ignore it. Several times Hermione went to say something, glanced at Mr Weasley and thought better of it. Bill and Fleur chatted in subdued tones about their day, but most of the meal was held in awkward silence.

Mr Weasley finally sighed and put his napkin down next to his empty plate.

“Thank you Molly, that was delicious.”

Bill, Hermione, Ginny, Harry and Tonks all expressed their agreement and thanks while Ron grunted something appreciative through a mouthful of fourth helpings. Fleur, who’d only had a tiny portion and picked at it with little apparent relish, was daintily dabbing at the corners of her mouth with her napkin so it was unclear if she said anything.

“I heard you gave an interesting Press Conference today Harry,” Mr Weasley said, bringing the moratorium to an end.

“What happened Harry?” Hermione asked immediately. “We haven’t heard anything. We were going to listen on the Wizarding Wireless Network but... well...”

“Mum wouldn’t let us,” Ginny finished for her.

This gave Harry the chance to establish the story that he wanted Dumbledore to hear. As he’d planned from the start, he was going to paint himself as a hapless victim of the Minister’s manipulations. He wasn’t sure if everyone would fall for it, but some of them would, and that might sew enough doubt to prevent them taking any _actual action_ to obstruct him. As Harry had learned last year, most people are unwilling to fight something if they aren’t entirely sure there’s anything to actually fight. Fudge and Umbridge had abused that fact mercilessly when they’d undermined Harry’s claims that Voldemort was back.

In a way, Harry was using a variant on Mr Weasley’s _plausible deniability_ approach. Some of his audience might suspect that he was more actively involved than he made out, but they wouldn’t be _sure_ , and would therefore be uncertain about how to react.

“It was nothing really,” Harry replied cheerfully. “The Minister prepared a statement for me to read out and it looked pretty harmless to me, so I thought... why not?”

Mr Weasley raised an incredulous eyebrow, “ _Harmless?_ You read out the prophecy Harry.”

Mrs Weasley, Bill and Hermione all shouted, “ _WHAT?_ ”

Harry faked a cringe and sank into his seat, “Oh well yeah. It was harmless apart from that bit. But you see, Scrimgeour already knew the prophecy. He talked me into telling him when I was drunk.”

Hermione favoured him with a look of profound pity, “ _Oh Harry._ ”

It was so typically _Hermione_ that he almost burst out laughing, which would have ruined everything.

He soldiered on, trying to sound apologetic, “The Minister was just going to read it out himself, so I thought I may as well do it. We did discuss it though, and he convinced me that there was actually no harm in disclosing it. Voldemort doesn’t learn anything useful from it. In fact he learns a few things that should make him hesitate.”

Hermione sat forward, her expression earnest and worried, “But Harry don’t you see? Now he’s knows there’s a power he knows not! He might figure out what it is and neutralise it!”

Harry turned to face her, “But how exactly would he do that? If I were to tell _you_ , right now, that somebody was going to kill you using a power you knew not, how would you go about figuring out what it was?”

“Well I’d go to the Library,” Hermione began, “and then I’d... hunt for all the branches of magic I didn’t know... and make a list... and then...”

“So let’s suppose Voldemort does that,” Harry interrupted, “and makes a list of everything he doesn’t know. Even if that’s quite a short list, there are still countless ways they could be used to kill him. Also, he’s only identified the _known_ branches of magic that he’s unfamiliar with. But there could easily be obscure or _unknown_ branches of magic that aren’t in any Library. Either way, he’ll never know for sure if he’s found the right one.”

“Maybe,” Hermione conceded, “but wouldn’t it have to be something _you_ know about? That would narrow it down.”

“Unlikely,” Harry replied immediately. “If he could be defeated by something on the Hogwarts syllabus I’m pretty sure anyone could do him in. No, it would have to be something that _only_ I know. But I can tell you right now that I don’t know any magic that _you_ don’t, because let’s face it you taught me most of it!”

Hermione smiled shyly at the complement.

“In any case,” Harry continued, “Dumbledore thinks the power is ‘love’. Even if Voldemort figures that out, how do you think he’d protect himself from it?”

A frown creased her brow. Everyone else looked a bit confused too.

“There’s also the possibility that Dumbledore could be wrong,” Harry noted. “I can think of at least two far more likely ‘powers’ that Voldemort knows nothing about.”

“Really?” Hermione asked in surprise. “What?”

Harry hadn’t given much thought to what the ‘power he knows not’ might be, because he wasn’t currently trying to destroy Voldemort permanently. All he wanted to do was deprive Voldemort of his body. But a couple of ideas _had_ occurred to him. First, like practically everyone else, Voldemort was blind to the power of the elves. Second, despite growing up in a muggle orphanage, Voldemort seemed to entirely dismiss muggle technology.

“I think I’d better keep those to myself,” Harry replied.

He didn’t want to endanger the elves, or tip his hand about muggle tech. He had no immediate plans to acquire a muggle weapon, but he’d like to keep the possibility open. The Minister could probably acquire one for him...

To everyone’s surprise, Ron interjected. “If You-Know-Who has heard the entire prophecy, he now knows that only you can kill him. Won’t he realise that he’ll live forever if he just avoids you?”

Harry laughed, “Oh God I hope so! That would be awesome!”

“Awesome for _you_ maybe,” Ron growled angrily. “What about the rest of us?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Harry replied hastily. “I meant that if he thinks the prophecy makes him immortal that would be awesome, because he’d be _wrong_. He most certainly is _not_ immortal but he might become reckless if he thought he was, making it much easier for someone other than me to kill him. Think about it! If that’s what the prophecy meant then _I’d be immortal too_. Do you think I’m immortal? If you chopped off my head do you think I’d survive? If you drop a ten tonne boulder on me will it bounce off? Do you think I’m impervious to spells now? Anyone fancy casting the Killing Curse at me to find out?”

Nobody volunteered.

“Exactly!” Harry resumed earnestly. “I’m not immortal and neither is he. The prophecy can’t possibly mean that.”

“But what if Dumbledore’s right about the power,” Ron replied, looking a little disgruntled at having his first theory shot down, “and You-Know-Who _does_ figure out how to protect himself from it?”

Harry shrugged, “I’m pretty sure he’s already done that, actually.”

Everyone looked shocked at that statement.

“Harry, you have to tell Dumbledore!” Hermione said, clutching at his arm.

“He already knows,” Harry replied evenly. “When I told him, the Headmaster looked... triumphant.”

Mr Weasley suddenly shot up from his seat, “ _STOP!_ ”

An astonished silence fell over the room.

“I think perhaps we should say no more on that subject,” Mr Weasley continued more calmly. “We’re at war now. Careless talk costs lives.”

“ _WE’RE AT WAR?_ ” Mrs Weasley shrieked.

Hermione, Ron and Ginny looked equally appalled.

“Did I not mention that?” Harry asked innocently.

“No, you did not mention that!” Hermione screeched.

Harry tried to look sheepish, “Oh right, yeah. The Minister declared war on Voldemort and the Death Eaters.”

“Not just the Minister,” Mr Weasley interjected, “you said we would wipe the Death Eaters from the face of the earth. Isn’t that going a bit far?”

Harry’s patience was running thin. He decided to be provocative to see if anyone would back him up, “No I don’t. If we’d dealt with them properly _last time_ they wouldn’t be killing us again _now_ , would they? What did Dumbledore’s much-vaunted forgiveness achieve? Another war with the exact same people, that’s what!”

Mrs Weasley immediately leapt to the Headmaster’s defence, “You have no idea what it was like after the last war! Dumbledore helped us all to move on and allowed Wizarding society to heal. He has his reasons for everything he does. You need to trust him Harry! Stop interfering and let Dumbledore handle this!”

Her reply didn’t surprise him in the least. Looking around the table he could see Bill, Ron and Ginny all nodding. Mr Weasley was watching him closely, while Hermione just looked a little panicky and Fleur's expression was entirely neutral.

“Is that so?” Harry replied coldly. “If I’d let Dumbledore handle things when a troll was loose in the school Hermione would be _dead_ right now. If I’d let him handle things when Ginny was lying on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets _she’d_ be dead right now. If I’d let him handle things last year when Mr Weasley was attacked by Nagini _he’d_ be dead right now. If I’d blindly trusted Dumbledore like you all apparently want me to, three of you wouldn’t even _be here_!”

Mrs Weasley’s expression oscillated between horror and outrage, while everyone else exchanged awkward looks.

“On top of which,” Harry continued quickly, “the Headmaster’s views are self-contradictory. He himself told me that prophecies do not actually foretell the future, and that this one is only important because Voldemort believes it. If it’s nonsense, why would it matter if Voldemort discovered what the 'power he knows not' actually is? Dumbledore also stated that this prophecy would have been broken if Voldemort hadn’t killed my parents. So if prophecies are nonsense or can be easily broken... why the hell did Dumbledore risk so many lives trying to prevent Voldemort hearing this one? There are only two possibilities. Either he did it just to sow fear in Voldemort – fear that there was something he didn’t know – but I’d hardly call that sufficient justification for gambling with our lives! Alternatively, despite what he said, Dumbledore _does_ actually believe in prophecies. Either way, he’s using us like pawns on a chess board, to be sacrificed if that gets him closer to victory.”

“I’m sure that’s not true Harry,” Mr Weasley countered.

“Are you?” Harry retorted. “Do you know what the Headmaster said to Voldemort when they were duelling in the Ministry Atrium a few months ago?”

Harry paused for moment, despite knowing full well that nobody but him knew what had taken place. Mr Weasley shook his head.

“Voldemort asked why Dumbledore wasn’t trying to kill him, and Dumbledore replied, ‘Merely taking your life would not satisfy me’. What do you suppose the Headmaster meant by that?”

Mr Weasley frowned. Harry glanced around the table. Everyone was looking rather puzzled, except Mrs Weasley who was glaring at Harry furiously. She _really_ didn’t like anyone contradicting her. She was one of those parents who demanded unquestioning obedience from the children around her, even the ones that weren’t hers. It was a trait that Harry found increasingly irritating. It spoke of lazy thinking and an unforgivably selfish desire to retreat into the comfort of self-delusion. Mrs Weasley refused to even _listen_ to alternative points of view, never mind actually _consider_ them, and became quite irrational in the face of evidence contrary to the reality she desired to exist. There was no point even attempting to reason with people like her, he realised.

Harry turned his attention back to her husband, “I think Dumbledore has become so wrapped-up in his desire to inflict an elegant and crushing intellectual victory on Voldemort that he’s lost sight of all the people who’ll get hurt in the process. But I have no interest in elegance. I just want Voldemort to die as quickly as possible. He’s not invulnerable – someone just has to land a Killing Curse on him. I will gladly be the one to do it, but I don’t actually care who does it as long as _someone_ puts him down.”

Before anyone could reply, four owls landed on the ledge outside the window and began squawking loudly. Mrs Weasley hastened to let them in. They were carrying special editions of the _Evening Prophet_ – one each for Mr Weasley, Bill, Harry and Hermione. Written on the front in huge letters was the headline:

_MINISTRY DECLARES WAR!_

Within seconds everyone was clustered around one copy or another: Mrs and Mrs Weasley... Bill and Fleur... Hermione, Ron and Ginny... Harry and Tonks... It was a huge edition – plastered with headlines, photos, background stories, interviews, reaction and commentary. Harry scanned the main headlines:

_PROPHECY REVEALED: HARRY POTTER IS THE CHOSEN ONE_

_MINISTER AND HARRY POTTER CALL FOR UNITY_

_ROUSING SPEACHES – FULL TEXT_

_HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT IN SUPPORT OF MINISTRY_

_HARRY POTTER EMANCIPATED AT 16_

_AURORS AND HARRY POTTER AUTHORISED TO USE UNFORGIVABLES_

_CITIZENS AUTHORISED TO USE KILLING CURSE AGAINST DEATH EATERS_

Mrs Weasley shrieked at almost every headline. She clutched her chest and sank heavily into a chair.

Hermione shrieked next, “ _You’re emancipated?_ ”

She stared at him with an expression that he couldn’t place at all, and then she glanced at Tonks, who smirked at her.

Mr Weasley rose from his seat and addressed the room, “Could you get the floo powder Molly? I’m sure the Order will be meeting tonight. Tonks, I assume you’ll be staying to guard Harry?” She nodded. “Good. We’ll leave the children in your hands. Bill and Fleur, you’re with us.”

Moments later, the ‘adults’ were all gone.

Harry was keen to avoid Dumbledore, so he made no effort to join them. Not that they’d have let him of course, even though they were meeting at 12 Grimmauld Place, which was _his_ house. That was an issue he’d have to deal with eventually, but not right now... he could only fight one battle at a time.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry will not be using elves or muggle tech against Voldemort in this story.
> 
> Next chapter will be posted in a day or two. The one after will take longer. Without you guys to encourage me I probably won’t have a fixed schedule for updates. I recommend subscribing to the story so you’re notified when I post a new chapter.


	21. Pushback

Harry wasn’t too concerned about what the Order might discuss without him. If the past was any guide, there would be a lot of talk and very little action. Dumbledore would reveal nothing of course, and everyone would accept that. Then he’d send them all off with orders to gather information of one sort or another, and they’d all feel like they were doing something useful and important. In comparison, Harry now had the Minister and the entire Ministry behind him. Nothing Dumbledore and a dozen civilians got up to could compare to that, especially since the Order never did anything pro-active.

Tonks grinned and spoke up, snapping him out of his reverie, “Right! I don’t want any trouble from you _children_ , or it’ll be straight to bed with you!”

Hermione, Ron and Ginny all scowled at her.

“Technically I’m an adult,” Harry noted.

“Oh yeah,” replied Tonks, “Sorry Harry. You can do whatever you want.”

That set Hermione off, “Exactly _how_ did you end up emancipated, Harry?”

“Well, the Minister thought it was a bit daft that the only person who could kill Voldemort was forbidden from using or practicing magic outside school. It’s kind of hard to argue with that, wouldn’t you say? If you think about it, Dumbledore should have emancipated me years ago. It’s almost as if he’s _trying_ to get me killed.”

Hermione looked uncertain and confused, but Ron jumped in, “What about _us_? We’re in danger too, from being your friends!”

“You _were_ my friends, Ron”, Harry replied contemptuously, “but then you decided to undermine me all year, remember? I could probably have convinced the Minister to emancipate _all_ of us, but I no longer feel inclined to do so.”

Ron looked furious and Hermione looked like she might throw up. Harry knew what she was thinking – the ability to do magic all year had been within her grasp and she’d blown it.

“Actually,” Tonks reminded them helpfully, “the Trace can't tell who's performing magic within a magical household, so you can practice magic at home as much as you like Ron; you too Ginny; you just need to get your parents’ permission. It’s only muggleborns like Hermione who can’t.”

That made Hermione even more furious. Harry wondered if she realised she could do magic here with Mrs Weasley’s permission too? Maybe she did, and realised (just like Ron did) that Mrs Weasley would never give it.

“Come to think of it, I do have two friends left,” Harry mused, “Tonks, could you remind me to ask Neville and Luna if they’d like to be emancipated?”

“ _Luna’s only fifteen!_ ” Hermione shrieked.

Harry ignored her and spoke to Tonks again, “Actually, scratch that. Neville and Luna are both purebloods. They can do magic at home already.”

Hermione screamed in frustration.

Harry noticed Tonks turn away and bite her knuckle in an obvious effort to suppress a giggle. She turned back with a stern look on her face.

“Now now, Hermione, we’ll have less of those tantrums, or I might have to put you over my knee.”

Hermione’s and Ginny’s mouths fell open, while Ron looked like Christmas had come early.

Tonks seemed to mull it over, “Yes, I think a good spanking might do you the world of good. Look! Ron seems to agree with me”.

Everyone’s eyes snapped to Ron, who quickly dropped the leer he was giving Hermione. Ginny and Hermione both turned a bit green.

Harry laughed, “Maybe you should just confiscate Hermione’s wand. It’s not like she can use it.”

If looks could kill, Harry would be six feet under from the one Hermione gave him at that comment.

“ _What?_ ” he asked innocently. “I’m just saying...”

Hermione glanced at Tonks uncertainly and chose not to reply, so Harry turned back to his copy of the _Prophet_ and gave it another once-over. The photos turned out as he’d expected – they portrayed him and the Minister as if they were best buddies and Harry was pleased with how the uniform looked. The biggest picture was on the front page. It showed Harry and Scrimgeour standing together, with the Minister’s hand on his shoulder. It was exactly the image Harry wanted – of the Minister being in charge, not Harry. It would have been disastrous if the Press had portrayed them the other way round. Harry wasn’t sure how Scrimgeour’s ego would have coped with that. He wasn’t obsessed with image like Fudge had been, but he’d come up through the ranks of the Auror Dept so respect for the chain of command was important to him.

To be fair, Scrimgeour had the bigger job by far. Harry might be the one who had to deal with Voldemort, but the Minister would be dealing with everything else. Whether it was _harder_ was open to debate, but it was definitely _bigger_. In any case, Harry had no love of the limelight; he was happy for Scrimgeour to take the attention and the credit. Harry just wanted this all to be over, so he could get on with his life.

At that moment, to everyone’s surprise (and Ginny’s eternal mortification) another unexpected owl arrived. Ginny tried to get to it first, but Ron beat her to it.

“You have a subscription to _Witch Weekly_ ,” he announced gleefully. “How long have you been covering _that_ up?”

Ginny snatched it from Ron’s hand and tried to hide it, but Harry saw the picture of himself on the front with the headline, ‘Special Commemorative Edition: Harry Potter – Heroic Stud Muffin’

Beside him, Tonks whipped out her wand and cried, “ _Accio teenage porn_.”

Ginny’s magazine flew through the air into Tonks’ waiting hand.

“Thanks Ginny,” Tonks said sarcastically, “you can have it back in a minute. I know you’ll want to use it... I mean _read it_... in bed later.”

Ginny flushed bright red and fumed impotently.

“Let’s see what this says shall we?” Tonks continued, flicking through the magazine. “Ah, here we go:”

_Harry Potter, 16, arguably the hottest piece of teenage beefcake in the country, just got hotter!_

_At a Ministry press conference this afternoon, Harry was confirmed as the Chosen One, and pledged to save us all from You-Know-Who. As if that wasn’t enough to get teenage witches’ hearts pounding across the nation, he was also declared emancipated._

_That’s right, ladies. Harry Potter is legally an adult and officially FAIR GAME!_

_We can therefore state, without fear of censure, that Harry Potter is looking EXTREMELY SHAGGABLE these days. One beautiful blonde witch, 25, who asked not to be named, said, “I’d definitely bang him. It would be a night he’d never forget.” She gave us her contact details if you’re interested Harry, but please don’t tell her husband. Another pretty young witch, Romilda Vane, 15, who attends Hogwarts with Harry said, “I hope he dumps that awful Granger girl this year. She doesn’t appreciate him at all, and she never let’s anyone near him. Someone else should get a turn.”_

_We at Witch Weekly would have to agree. Pictures of Harry smiling have been as rare as Basilisk teeth in the three years he’s been dating muggleborn Hermione Granger. Has Harry finally escaped his ball-and-chain’s jealous clutches? Is Harry back on the market? We certainly hope so, because what he was wearing today has everyone at Witch Weekly very hot under the collar. One vivacious reporter (whose details are also on file, if you need them Harry) noted that Harry’s butt looked so tight you could bounce galleons off it..._

Harry’s face felt like it was on fire. He snatched the magazine from Tonks’ hands and threw it back to Ginny. “Thank you, Tonks. I think we’ve all heard enough of that.”

Ron gave Harry a furious glare and stormed off up the stairs. Hermione looked angry too, but when she caught Harry looking her way she quickly lifted her copy of the Prophet to hide her face.

Tonks smirked, “Are you sure Harry? There’s like... another thirty pages of that. Plus close-up photos of your arse.”

“Yes I’m very sure, thank you.”

“Well, I guess it’s all yours then Ginny,” replied Tonks. “Try not to stick all the pages together later.”

Ginny snatched the magazine off the table and seethed silently.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Tonks exclaimed. “Any luck with my research project, Hermione?”

Ginny’s eyes went wide. Hermione had obviously told her about it.

Hermione dropped her newspaper. “ _What?_ ” she cried in disbelief. “ _I thought you were just messing with me!_ ”

“Er... no!” replied Tonks. “The problem is very real!” She leant forward conspiratorially, “and it will be getting worse later tonight, if you know what I mean...”

Hermione and Ginny both stared at Harry, who felt his cheeks burn even hotter and hid behind his paper.

Hermione stumbled over her answer, “Well um... I’m not sure where I would um... locate reference texts for um... that sort of thing.”

Harry lowered his paper just enough that he could see them over it.

“You’ll figure something out,” said Tonks brightly, “You’re a genius at research. Think of it as forward planning. You two may need it yourselves some day. I’m not averse to sharing...” Tonks wiggled her eyebrows. Hermione and Ginny both looked from Tonks to Harry and back again. Tonks winked and they both quickly looked down, shuffling in their seats.

After a moment, Ginny muttered, “I might know where you might find something...” Tonks raised an eyebrow and Ginny looked sheepish, “Mum has quite a lot of books about... that sort of thing... in her closet.”

“Well, she does have seven children I suppose,” Tonks mused. “Ok, you two go have a look while she’s out of the house.”

Hermione and Ginny quickly ran up the stairs. Twenty minutes later they came back looking very red-faced. “We’ve um... borrowed a couple of books. I’ll see what I can find,” said Hermione.

“Thanks girls,” said Tonks, “I appreciate it!”

Everyone moved to the sitting room to resume reading the _Prophet_. On the whole, Harry was very pleased with how the newspaper had reported everything. Hopefully Scrimgeour would agree and start moving things along.

Hermione folded her newspaper and placed it on the sofa with a sigh, “What did you mean by ‘unholy war’ Harry?”

Of all the things she would ask him first, that was not one he’d anticipated. He considered what he should say carefully. Hermione was without doubt an idealist, but she wasn’t a pacifist like Mr Weasley, so he didn’t have to shy away from the harsher realities of war. In the end he decided to be honest.

“I meant that we’re not going to hold back. We can’t win this war if we fight it with one hand tied behind our backs. Those of us on the front line won’t be messing around. By their actions, Voldemort and his Death Eaters have lost their right to the protections that society usually provides. They won’t be treated gently, because they’re no longer citizens. They’re enemy combatants. We won’t be using stunners we’ll be using Unforgivables from day one and we’ll shoot to kill, just like they do.”

“But doesn’t that make us as bad as them?” Hermione asked in alarm.

“Dumbledore would certainly say so,” Harry admitted. “But we only have the luxury of that sort of sentiment in times of peace. Once an enemy has declared war, that attitude will just lead to defeat. Pacifists like Dumbledore can’t lead us in times of war. He’ll get us all killed, like last time. My parents died on his watch. Many people did. I don’t want that to happen again.”

“That’s just semantics Harry!” Hermione insisted. “Whether we call it a war or not, if we’re doing what they’re doing that makes us the same!”

“We are _not_ the same” Harry replied equally vehemently, “and I find that statement offensive. Don’t you understand the difference between an aggressor and a victim? Voldemort and his followers are indiscriminately killing the innocent just because they _feel like it_! Are you seriously saying that defending ourselves from murderers makes us as bad as murderers?”

“No of course not,” she replied indignantly. “But it’s _how_ you defend yourself that matters.”

“I agree. If we started indiscriminately killing the innocent then we would be as bad as them. But we’re not going to do that. We’ll still be following legal procedures. Deadly force will only be used against those we have good reason to believe are Death Eaters, and only if they refuse to comply with orders to surrender.”

“But why do you need to kill to do that?” she persisted. “Can’t you just stun and capture them?”

“We could try, but it would be extremely costly. As we discovered in the Department of Mysteries a few months ago, if you stun an enemy in a fight they just get back up. Even if we succeeded and threw them into Azkaban, Voldemort will just set them free again. Our numbers will rapidly dwindle while theirs stay the same, so it’s a recipe for failure. No, the time for being soft on these bastards has long-since passed. We need to defend our society _effectively_ , and we know for a _fact_ that your way – Dumbledore’s way – doesn’t work. He and the Ministry were on the verge of losing the first war. Just think about that for a moment. If I hadn’t got rid of Voldemort fifteen years ago, what sort of country would we be living in now? It would be a hellish totalitarian state. Millions would have died. Millions! I refuse to risk that for the sake of a few terrorists’ lives.”

Hermione wasn’t so easily deterred, “But Harry, what’s the point of winning the war if you lose your humanity in the process?”

“That depends on how much you value your humanity,” Harry replied. “Dumbledore clearly values his more than the lives of anyone around him, since he refuses to kill no matter what the circumstances. Then again, perhaps that’s no great surprise. He sees death as the gateway to another grand adventure. He’s almost looking forward to it. But most people don’t feel that way. If _your_ parents were attacked by Death Eaters, for example, what would _you_ do? If it was just you against ten Death Eaters, so you have no chance of winning unless you killed them, would you do it? Or would you put your humanity above the lives of your parents, attempt to use stunners, and watch your parents die?”

“You know the answer to that question Harry,” she replied, looking a little hurt.

“Yes I do,” he acknowledged. Hermione had always defended him without hesitation. He knew she would do what had to be done, if she had no other choice. “But shouldn’t we try to prevent that from happening the first place? The Ministry has a responsibility to ensure that citizens aren’t over-run by Death Eaters in their own home. It’s already too late to save some people, like Susan’s aunt, Amelia Bones. How many more must die before we accept the inevitable and do was has to be done?”

“I don’t think it is inevitable though!” she insisted. “There must be other things we can try...”

“We’re not the only smart people in the country, Hermione. By all accounts my mother was pretty smart. Sirius, Professor Lupin and my father weren’t stupid either. And I’m sure you’ll agree that Dumbledore is no slouch. If there was a way to win without killing, they would have found it last time. But they didn’t, so they were about to lose. In desperation, the Ministry was on the verge of doing everything we’re about to do, but it would have been too late and they knew it. The war was lost. Fortunately I got rid of Voldemort and everyone was saved. But he’s back and he’s picking up where he left off. We need to do the same.”

Hermione didn’t look convinced. Harry hadn’t really expected to persuade her straight away. Like most people, she would need to think it over and make up her own mind. Harry glanced at the clock. It was gone midnight. He was debating whether to head up to bed when a noise in the kitchen drew everyone’s attention. Without even thinking about it Harry and Tonks both drew their wands. They put them away again when Bill and Fleur’s voices reached them, closely followed by Mr and Mrs Weasley.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Mrs Weasley offered.

Harry, Tonks, Hermione and Ginny all wandered into the kitchen as a herd of elephants in the shape of Ron came thumping down the stairs.

“What happened?” he demanded loudly. “Were Fred and George there? What’s the Order going to do?”

“Never you mind!” Mrs Weasley fired back immediately. “Why aren’t you all in bed?”

“Dad?” Ron appealed to his father.

“Take a seat everyone,” Mr Weasley suggested. “You know we can’t discuss Order business, but we can at least share a cup of tea before we all turn in.”

Ron shot Harry a rather spiteful look as everyone took a seat, “Come on Dad! What did Dumbledore say? Is Harry expelled?”

Hermione gasped, “He wouldn’t!”

“I’ve never seen Dumbledore so angry...” Bill noted, before his father’s look silenced him.

Harry had expected Dumbledore to be furious of course, but the news still sent a chill of fear through him. He wasn’t the only one: Tonks, Hermione and Ginny all paled too. Once again Harry wondered what instinct made everyone fear Dumbledore so much. He also wondered why Ron was looking so gleeful. Had his jealousy of Harry’s popularity with _Witch Weekly_ been so great that he’d see Harry expelled?

“No,” Mr Weasley replied to Ron’s question. “He’s not going to expel Harry, but he _is_ reconsidering Harry’s position as Head Boy.” He turned to face Harry. “The Headmaster has asked me to retrieve the Head Boy badge. He says that revealing the prophecy was reckless and irresponsible, which are not the characteristics of a Head Boy.”

Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth and grabbed Harry’s arm, but he hardly noticed. A sudden cold fury swept over him. In the past he’d have swallowed his anger and accepted whatever punishment was meted out... but not anymore. There was no way he could win this war if he allowed people to keep walking all over him. These days he was determined to give as good as he got, and if Dumbledore thought he could renege on their agreement like this he was very much mistaken.

Ron turned to see how Harry had taken the news, but something in Harry’s expression wiped the smirk from his face. Harry ignored him and met Mr Weasley’s gaze. Harry was boiling with rage and made no attempt to conceal it.

“Perhaps you could pass on a message for me?” Harry growled through gritted teeth. “Please tell the Headmaster that I will return to Hogwarts as Head Boy... or I will not return at all.”

“Harry no!” Hermione cried.

Harry’s gaze didn’t waver from Mr Weasley, but in his peripheral vision he saw everyone exchanging stunned looks.

“Dumbledore doesn’t respond well to threats Harry,” Mr Weasley observed in poorly veiled dismay.

“Neither do I,” Harry replied icily. “Nor do I appreciate the Headmaster attempting to renege on our deal.”

To Harry’s right Mrs Weasley stepped forward holding out her hand.

“You can have the badge back if Dumbledore decides you deserve it,” she told him.

Now Harry could see where Ron got his vindictive streak from. Mrs Weasley’s expression had a distinct look of self-satisfied triumph. She even shot Tonks a victorious look. Harry felt a flare of anger from his left and Tonks started to rise. Without looking, Harry placed a hand on her forearm to calm her. After a moment she sank back into her chair.

Very deliberately, Harry reached into his pocket and grabbed the badge. He ignored Mrs Weasley and placed his closed fist, palm down on the table.

“I appreciate you having me in your home Mr Weasley, I really do, but if you continue to hinder my efforts to defeat Voldemort then your hospitality will take on an altogether more sinister appearance. I’m your _guest_ , not your prisoner. You have no authority to take this badge from me, just as your wife has no authority to prevent me meeting with the Minister. I suggest you tread very carefully, because the person with the most to lose right now isn’t me, or Dumbledore, it’s _you_. By acting as Dumbledore’s enforcers, you and Mrs Weasley have positioned yourselves squarely in the middle of a power struggle between the Headmaster and the Ministry. Past experience suggests that if those two sides collide, anyone on the middle will be crushed, and Dumbledore won’t lift a finger to save you.”

“Is that a threat?” Ron asked incredulously.

“No,” Harry replied, turning to face his former friend. “It’s a warning. If your family stand in my way I’ll just leave. I won’t harm you. But I can’t guarantee that your family won’t suffer collateral damage if Dumbledore's and the Ministry get into a fight over it. When they faced off in our second year Hagrid ended up in Azkaban. In third year I was almost killed several times by the Ministry’s Dementors, and the Headmaster did nothing to stop it. In fourth year he made me compete in the deadly Triwizard Tournament to flush out the person who’d entered me. In fifth year he did nothing to prevent me being tortured, but happily fled the school to save his own skin when Aurors turned up to arrest him. All in all, the Headmaster’s record for protecting anyone but himself is far from reassuring.”

“You’re right that we have no authority to take the badge from you,” Mr Weasley accepted, his tone conciliatory. “And you are certainly not a prisoner. We’re just trying to keep you safe, Harry. I can appreciate that might find that frustrating sometimes, but we have the benefit of greater experience. We would merely like to save you from making the same mistakes we made in our youth, because the consequences for you would be severe. Whether you are Head Boy or not is surely a small matter in the context of everything else that’s happening. I suggest you think carefully about what outcome you want, and whether the actions you’re considering would _genuinely_ bring about that outcome.”

Harry could see what Ron’s father was trying to do – he was implying that it would be foolish to anger Dumbledore, and equally foolish to lose the support of all his friends... because if Harry did that he would be completely alone. What Mr Weasley didn’t realise was that those events had already come to pass. But there was a more important point he was missing.

“You have the situation backwards,” Harry replied. “It’s _me_ who’s trying to protect _you_. I have the might of the Ministry behind me now. I don’t need your protection, I need your _cooperation_. And while you may have more experience of _life_ , I’m the one who has more experience of dealing with Voldemort. I’ve faced him several times, and I’ve even been _inside his head_. Can you say the same? I’ve also had five years of being Dumbledore’s pawn, and I know what it can cost. My parents died under his leadership, and last year my Godfather joined them. I’m all too aware that the next person I lose will most likely be someone at this table.”

Mrs Weasley snatched back her outstretched hand and whimpered. She backed away from Harry as if proximity to him might bring that awful event to pass. She only stopped when her back hit the wall. Mr Weasley rose from his seat and hurried over to comfort her.

“You have repeatedly advised me to let the adults deal with this,” Harry continued. “But we have gone beyond the point where amateurs like the Order should be involved. So I’m giving you the same advice – let the _professionals_ deal with this. You are not equipped to do it. Unfortunately I don’t have the luxury of staying out of it, and neither does Tonks, but the rest of you do. Stay home and stay safe! Don’t let Dumbledore put you in harm’s way. He’s going to get some of you killed. In the meantime, I warned the Headmaster what would happen if he screwed me over on the Head Boy position, and that promise is unaffected by his use of others to enforce his trickery.”

Harry slowly turned his fist palm-up and uncurled his fingers to reveal the Head Boy badge.

“Now we’ll find out who believes in Prophecies,” Harry snarled. “If _anyone_ takes this badge from my hand I’ll be gone within the hour, and you will never see me again. So take it if you like... but you’d better be _pretty fucking sure_ that you can kill Voldemort without me.”

Nobody berated him for his swearing. Nobody spoke at all. They just gaped in mute shock as, one by one, Harry stared them down. His eyes finally came to rest on Mrs Weasley. She clutched tightly to her husband, her bravado completely gone.

“That’s what I thought,” Harry spat scathingly.

“There’s no need to be so hostile Harry,” Mr Weasley said angrily. “We’re all friends here.”

“I wish that were true,” Harry replied bitterly. “But the only friend I have in this room is Tonks. Despite me saving Hermione’s life, Ginny’s life, your life, and arguably Fleur’s sister’s life, you all routinely keep secrets from me – things I should know; things I _need_ to know. Whenever Dumbledore and I are at odds, you all support _him over me_. I have no use for friends like that. Dumbledore made sure that I entered the Wizarding World weak and ignorant, and _you lot_ are helping to keep me that way. Defeating Voldemort is going to be hard enough without my so-called friends standing in my way. Being Head Boy isn’t a huge thing, but it will make my life _just a little bit_ easier. Without it any of the Slytherin prefects, including Draco _bloody_ Malfoy, has the authority to put me in detention every night.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Hermione insisted. “There are rules about what a prefect can...”

“Come of it!” Harry scoffed. “We put his father in Azkaban for fuck’s sake! You think Malfoy will just let that slide? And since when did Malfoy ever obey the rules? He breaks them constantly, safe in the knowledge that Snape will back him up. Then Dumbledore backs up Snape! Well I’m sick of it! If that’s how Hogwarts is going to be this coming year then you can count me out.”

“But you have to complete your education!” Hermione replied, her voice rising in desperation.

“Do I?” Harry countered. “There’s no legal requirement for me to return, since I’ve already taken my OWLs. I’m also rich, famous, and emancipated. I don’t need qualifications and I don’t need a job. I could walk out that door right now and nobody would have any right to stop me. I could go sip cocktails on a beach somewhere and forget all about killing Voldemort for the ungrateful people of this country. But if I _do_ stay, why would I waste my time on the Hogwarts curriculum? Have you _looked_ at the sixth year syllabus? What use will brewing a Hiccoughing Solution be in my fight against Voldemort? Or the Knitting Charm? Or transfiguring Cauldron Cakes into Cabbages? How valuable will an education be to me if I'm dead?”

Hermione’s mouth opened and closed several times. She clearly had difficulty processing the idea that a well-rounded education might not be someone’s top priority.

Mr Weasley raised a hand to forestall any further discussion, “Very well Harry. I will convey your... sentiments to Dumbledore and let you know what he says.”

“You do that,” Harry responded. “And tell him his attempt to break our agreement will cost him. In addition to being Head Boy, I now want immunity from professors giving me detention. He will overrule any professor who attempts to give me one this year, no matter what the circumstances, or I’ll leave and he can fight Voldemort himself. That is my price for his treachery. He can take it or leave it.”

Every single person, even Tonks, looked astounded by that. It was obvious that Harry wasn’t playing around, but going up against the Headmaster? That was unheard of.

For Harry, this conversation had made him realise something – he really _didn’t_ have to return to Hogwarts. In the past that would have been inconceivable, because the alternative was returning to Privet Drive. But now the Blood Wards had fallen, and he was emancipated, and he had a home of his own and the backing of the Ministry... there were lots of other options. His desire to return was also severely blunted by his friends’ betrayal. Without Ron and Hermione by his side, he had a lot less to look forward to at school. Perhaps he really should abandon his education to focus on defeating Voldemort?

“You all need to stop seeing me as a child,” Harry advised. “I’m fighting in a war, and unlike the rest of you I’m _guaranteed_ to have blood on my hands at the end of it, or be dead. I can no longer afford to be forgiving or tolerant, so let me be clear about this. If you stand in my way, I'll consider our friendship terminated. If you push me, I'll push back harder. If you behave like an enemy, I'll assume you are one.”

Harry rose from his chair and threw the Head Boy badge across the table. It tumbled end over end until it came to a stop in front of Mr Weasley’s vacated seat.

“Return that to me if the Headmaster agrees to my terms,” Harry instructed. “If not, or you no longer want me in your house, Tonks and I will leave at nightfall tomorrow.”

He spun on his heel and stalked angrily up the stairs.

“Enjoy your tea,” Tonks said sweetly, and then hurried after Harry.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the very (x100) long delay in posting the next chapter. I will post it eventually, but events in real life have curtailed my writing time. In the meantime, I recommend subscribing to this story so you're notified when the next chapter appears.


	22. The Badge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the super-long delay in posting this chapter. My encounter with poisonous users on FFN soured the fanfic experience for me, and I lost interest in writing. Then, just when I was ready to start up again, somebody very close to me fell gravely ill. It wasn’t Covid, but it was touch-and-go for a while. They’re okay now, but it could happen again any time, so fingers crossed that it doesn’t! Regardless, I won’t abandon this story, but updates may be irregular.
> 
> I’m going to leave comments disabled for now, but if you like the story let me know via the kudos button. Thank you!

“Bloody hell Harry”, Tonks exclaimed as she locked and silenced the bedroom door. “Talk about shooting the messenger!”

Harry sighed wearily, “Not quite. I wasn’t shooting the messenger, I was shooting the _enforcer_. That’s an important distinction. A messenger isn’t part of the problem, but an enforcer is.”

Tonks blew out a breath, “Okay, but did you have to give him both barrels? Poor Arthur...”

“No I didn’t,” Harry admitted. “But I’m exhausted and Dumbledore really pushes my buttons. Thanks to the Dursleys I’ve spent my whole life bottling up my anger for fear of upsetting those around me, but it just encourages them to treat me even worse. I’ve had enough... and an example had to be made. Dumbledore and Mrs Weasley were getting out of control so I had to stamp on them. Hard.”

“Then why direct it at Arthur?”

“Because he was the enforcer on this occasion,” Harry replied. “And he can take it. He’s the patriarch and doesn’t need anyone’s support. Targeting anyone apart from him wouldn’t have the same impact, and would most likely result in everyone leaping to their defence. Directing my anger at Mrs Weasley would have been a huge mistake. It would look like a personal vendetta rather than an ideological disagreement, and I’d appear ungrateful for all the kindness she’s shown me.”

“But surely some of them would support you?” Tonks responded.

Harry shook his head, “That’s another lesson the Dursleys taught me – very few people take a side based on the merits of the situation. They pick the side that’s most _convenient_ for them and then manufacture arguments to justify it. Nobody in Little Whinging wanted to deal with child abuse in the neighbourhood, so they believed the Dursleys’ claims that I was a delinquent instead. Nobody here really understands or cares why I want to be Head Boy. They’re not affected by it, so they see no upside for themselves. Mr Weasley will therefore support his wife because it would make his life difficult not to. Fleur might have backed me, but her opinion carries little weight in this house and I doubt she really cares. Bill would back Fleur if he thought she cared, but his Mum otherwise. Ron, Hermione and Ginny would have sided with me in the past, because they wanted to be actively involved, but they no longer do so they’ll back Mrs Weasley now. They’d all come up with other reasons not to support me of course, but they’d just be rationalisations.”

“What about when Arthur backed me up against Molly?” Tonks wondered.

“He did that because he had no choice,” Harry replied. “There was a real risk of his wife getting thrown in jail. He knew she’d become unbearable if that happened, and also that he might lose his job over it. He normally leaves his wife to it, even when he disagrees with her, but being unable to provide for his family is one of the few things that will make him take a stand.”

Tonks absorbed that for a moment, “That’s true I guess... So should I start packing now or leave it until morning?”

“No need,” Harry replied as he sat down on his bed. “We won’t be going anywhere. Whatever convoluted scheme Dumbledore’s hatching seems to centre on me. He needs me at Hogwarts, so they’ll return the badge to me tomorrow.”

Tonks was sceptical, “I don’t know Harry... Giving you immunity from detentions would undermine school discipline. Dumbledore would never agree to that.”

Harry snorted, “School discipline! That’s a good one. As if there is any! But you’re right – he would never grant me immunity. Fortunately he doesn’t need to. If he returns the badge via a proxy like Mr Weasley it will _imply_ that he’s agreed to my terms, but he won’t have explicitly _said_ so, and I can’t pin him down on it if he isn’t here. He also won’t have to actually _deliver_ on that implied promise unless I’m actually given a detention. If that never happens he’ll have lost nothing. If it does... well, by then he’ll have me safely back at Hogwarts, and he’ll find a way to weasel out of it.”

“Won’t capitulating now make him look weak to the Weasleys?”

Harry shrugged, “Maybe, but if there’s one thing the Headmaster definitely _doesn’t_ care about its appearing to be weak. He routinely allows himself to appear weak. In fact he encourages people to think he’s a bit senile. It baffles his enemies and prevents his allies from figuring out his true motives. In any case, their belief in him is pretty solid so I doubt it’ll be dented much by anything I do. My guess is that the badge will be returned quietly in private, leaving everyone in the dark about exactly what Dumbledore has agreed to. With nothing definitive to get riled up about, people fall back to their default assumptions. The Weasley’s will conclude that Dumbledore has everything under control.”

The pink-haired girl frowned, “You really think Dumbledore is that manipulative?”

“Definitely,” Harry replied without hesitation. “But a lot of it is instinctive, I suspect. He does what he needs to do to get the results he wants, without realising how devious it is. To him they're just sensible habits.”

“Okay, but why are you demanding something he definitely won’t give?”

“Because I had to push back or Dumbledore and everyone else will keep walking all over me... and it was the only thing I could come up with at the time. In retrospect, forcing him to do something the Weasleys and Hermione will see as unfair will probably strengthen the Headmaster’s influence over them. But maybe that’s for the best. I need to distance myself from them anyway. They’re too obvious a target – being Dumbledore’s allies is bad enough, but if they remain mine too that’ll put them firmly at the top of Voldemort’s hit list. I can’t afford to have friends who aren’t trained Aurors anymore. Nor can I have friends who aren’t one hundred percent behind me.”

Tonks looked uncertain, “It’s Dumbledore I’m more worried about. Asking for immunity from detentions is just a bit...”

“Immature?” Harry suggested. “Yes it is, but that was deliberate. This is all a distraction. I want Dumbledore to think I’m still a child being led astray by the Minister. I need him to put my behaviour down to teenage rebellion and dismiss what I’m doing. The last thing I want is for him to take me seriously and start interfering.”

“That’s why you’re returning to Hogwarts?” Tonks asked.

“Exactly,” Harry agreed. “I can’t really avoid it. I’m not ready to face Voldemort just yet, so I need somewhere safe to prepare. I don’t have much to go back for, but Hogwarts is as good a place as any to learn to fight, and it has a decent library. But mostly I’m returning because Dumbledore would move heaven and earth to get me back if I didn’t. Returning to school like a good little boy should keep Dumbledore’s attention elsewhere.”

Harry yawned deeply. He was absolutely shattered, and talking about this was sapping what little energy he had left. He’d only had a few hours sleep last night and his exhaustion was becoming very apparent as the anger-fuelled adrenaline left him. He wearily undressed and climbed into bed naked.

“I’m going to rest my eyes for a moment,” he mumbled.

Sleep took him before his head even hit the pillow, but he half woke up when Tonks slipped into bed beside him and snuggled in close. Some of his tension immediately drained away. He wrapped his arms around her naked body and sighed... then knew no more.

\- § -

Harry gradually surfaced from a very deep slumber. The faint grey light of dawn was just visible through the curtains. He was dimly aware that something had woken him, but he wasn’t sure what. As his senses returned he discovered that Tonks was looking down at him with her finger tracing little circles on his chest.

“Is it time to get up?” he croaked.

Tonks’ expression turned mischievous, “No, but I noticed that you’ve been up for a while...”

Harry blushed. He pretty much always woke up with an erection. He had no idea why. But waking up with a naked girl draped over him? A raging hard-on was absolutely guaranteed.

“It would be a shame to waste it,” Tonks grinned and slowly crawled on top of him.

Harry groaned in pleasure. It felt wonderful to have her slim and lithe body pressing down on his. She’d positioned her legs either side of him, so his morning erection was pointing straight at her entrance. He was still half asleep and his limbs felt heavy, so even if he wanted to he couldn’t muster the energy to object.

The beautiful pink-haired teen looked up at him and batted her eyelashes in transparently fake innocence. That fact was confirmed when she shuffled down the bed a bit until her pussy touched the tip of his cock. Harry’s eyes closed and his head fell back in delight. When her labia parted of their own accord and he felt the warmth inside her entrance stroking the tip of his penis, he gasped out loud. Tonks was already dripping wet. He wondered how long she’d been admiring his morning wood.

“Mmmmmm,” she moaned, “that feels amazing.”

Tonks lifted her head so they were face to face and smiled at him. “Don’t move. It’s my turn to shag _you_ this time. Just lie there and let me take care of you.”

Before he could answer, she leant forward and touched her lips to his in a gentle kiss. It was wonderfully soft, full of tenderness and affection. Their mouths opened and closed as their lips danced over each other, and all the while Tonks was moving her hips in small circles, caressing his cock with her increasingly moist pussy. Harry was desperate to plunge fully inside her, but she’d said not to move, so he didn’t. The urge to do so was increasing every second though.

Suddenly, Tonks pressed down a little further and the head of his penis plunged into her warm vagina. They both groaned in pleasure through their joined mouths. She lifted up and the head of his dick slipped out, then she pressed down so it slipped back in again. Harry gasped and Tonks’ legs trembled. Her face fell to his shoulder.

“God that feels good,” she mumbled. The connection to her mind flared faintly into life, giving Harry a small taste of the pleasure she was feeling, but his mind was still fuzzy with sleep and it quickly faded into the background.

Over and over, she made the head of his cock slip out, then part her lips and slip back in. The gentle pressure of his knob pushing her open seemed to send her into raptures of bliss.

For minutes, that’s all she did, and Harry had no complaints at all. It was like he was making love to her anew each time. They’d had sex once yesterday, but today they were having sex hundreds of times and it felt truly wonderful. Waves of pleasure were radiating out from his midriff into his body. He was pretty sure he was going to cum soon, and he desperately wanted to go deeper, but Tonks had said not to move, so he just groaned in torment.

His frustration seemed to turn her on – her breathing had become increasingly ragged and she started to pant.

“Oh God,” she moaned as she pushed down harder.

His cock finally went an inch deeper. Harry cried out and Tonks squealed.

It felt like she tormented him like that for hours – plunging his dick into her pussy over and over, pushing her open each time, but not going any deeper. His frustration would grow until he growled. Only then would she let him go an inch deeper, and he’d cry out at the joy of it. Harry was in a world of ecstasy, but he desperately wanted to be all the way inside her.

In the end he couldn’t take it any longer. She’d said not to move, but he _had_ to. He started thrusting his hips in an effort to go deeper, but Tonks adjusted her position to deny him. He snarled in irritation, which made Tonks moan in pleasure. She was enjoying torturing him, he realised. She found it a huge turn-on.

The rapturous torment continued. Only a few more inches to go... but they were very important inches. Harry longed desperately for the sensation of being fully inside her – of feeling the top of her vagina pressing against the head of his cock and her mound pressed firmly against him. He grabbed her hips with both hands and tried to push her down onto his shaft, but she was having none of it. Her strong thigh muscles resisted him and he was denied once again.

Harry’s dick was sliding in and out of her unimpeded now – her opening wasn’t closing-up between penetrations. That realisation almost made him cum, but he just about held on. He didn’t want to ejaculate until he was all the way inside her.

Tonks began squealing with every thrust, and she kept losing her rhythm. Abruptly she pushed herself up until she was sitting on his cock with her hands on his chest. Harry saw his opportunity and cupped both her breasts in his palms. Tonks shuddered. He caressed the soft skin of her glorious chest and she shuddered again, then he circled her nipples with his thumbs. The pretty girl’s head flew back and she cried out. Her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth dropped open in a low moan. Harry flicked his thumbs across her nipples, and then squeezed her breasts gently.

All pretence of rhythm or toying with him deserted her. She rammed herself down on his cock, plunging him all the way in, and they both cried out. Tonks was frantic now. She rode up and down on his dick, slamming it all the way into herself repeatedly.

“Oh Harry... Oh Harry... Oh Harry...”

Her excitement drove Harry’s arousal higher, and he loved the fact that she was calling out his name. He was seconds away from cumming, and it was the most glorious feeling in the world. He looked up at Tonks’ elated face, her fabulous breasts bouncing as she rode him, and was astounded once more at her beauty. A massive orgasmic tsunami began to build inside his balls and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He wasn’t the only one. Tonks was wheezing his name faster and faster, “OhHarry! OhHarry! OhHarry! OhHarryOhHarryOhHarry! OhHarryOhHarryOhHarryOhHarryOhHarry OHARRY OH...”

Suddenly Tonks screamed as her climax crashed over her, “AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!”

Her spine arched backwards and her hands slapped onto Harry’s forcing him to knead her breasts with his fingers. That made her cry out in heightened delight, her body shaking violently as her pussy repeatedly clamped down on his cock.

“AAAAaaaahhhhh! AAAAaaaahhhhh! AAAAaaaahhhhh! AAAAaaaahhhhh! AAAAaaaahhhhh! AAAAaaaahhhhh!”

The sight of Tonks having an orgasm, and the feel of her vagina convulsing around his dick were too much for him. The tidal wave of his orgasm smashed into him and Harry was no more. Wave after wave of delirious euphoria wracked his body in savage spasms. He could feel the hot liquid spurting from his penis as he ejaculated violently into Tonks’ pulsing vagina. Over and over he came, his dick spraying her insides like a fire hose. Harry was completely helpless - the sight of a naked ‘teen supermodel’ Tonks riding his cock, her breasts bouncing wildly and her face contorted in the ecstasy of orgasm, stripped him of all control. His body was no longer his own. He’d become a slave to the pink-haired girl’s staggering beauty, and the amazing feel of her insides on his dick.

After minutes or hours, Harry couldn’t tell, Tonks finally fell forwards and collapsed onto his chest. Her body was still wracked with occasional aftershocks as she rotated her hips in slow circles, making his cock slide gently around inside her. Harry could feel the muscles of her vagina entrance gripping his cock, milking it for every drop of cum.

For several minutes they just lay there, neither one of them able to move. The pulses of Harry’s cock and the contractions of Tonks’ vagina became less frequent as the waves of pleasure slowly subsided.

Eventually, Tonks lifted her head and smiled at him, “Now _that_ was a seriously fabulous morning shag! Nice one Harry! You’re an absolute natural at this.”

“I’m not sure I can take any credit for that,” he replied. “I just lay here. But you were amazing!”

Tonks grinned and adopted an angelic look, fluttering her eyes sweetly, “Why thank you, kind sir.”

Harry laughed at her antics, but was also keenly aware that the impossibly cute girl was also still impaled on his penis. He grabbed onto her hips and stared up at her, savouring the moment and cementing it into his memory. Tonks sighed happily and leaned forward to kiss him passionately on the lips.

Unfortunately Harry’s erection began to subside, so Tonks clambered off him (making him wince) and lay by his side stroking his chest. Harry honestly couldn’t remember ever feeling so content. Within moments the soothing touch of Tonks’ fingers and the wonderful feel of her naked body against his lulled him back into sleep’s tender embrace.

\- § -

When he woke again he was alone in the bed. He reached over to the bedside table and scrambled around for his glasses. Blinking at the bright light beaming in through a gap in the curtains, it was several moments before he realised what he was looking at.

Tonks was hanging out of the window, stark naked, with her fabulous bum in the air. Before Harry could make any sense of it, she tipped herself back into the room and backed up towards him leaving two pink strings in her wake. Extendible ears, he suddenly realised. She’d lowered a pair of extendible ears out of the window.

With an impish grin she sat on the bed and passed him one of the strings.

“I heard Ron stomping down the stairs,” she informed him, “and now there are voices in Ginny’s room below.”

Harry inserted the flesh-coloured tube in his ear.

“What’s Harry got to be so angry about?” Ron’s voice asked petulantly. “He’s rich, he’s famous, and every witch in the country wants to shag him! He’s living the dream! But that’s not enough for the glorious _Chosen One_ is it? Oh no, he has to be Head Boy as well!”

“Not everyone’s obsessed with money, fame and sex Ron!” Hermione replied indignantly. “Being Head Boy is a great honour, and Harry deserves it! I hope Dumbledore gives him a second chance. Anyway, Harry has Voldemort and all his Death Eaters trying to kill him! I wouldn’t call that living the dream.”

“Yes well, they’re trying to kill all of us aren’t they?” Ron replied. “But we don’t have smoking-hot personal bodyguards to protect us do we? If anything, we’re in more danger than Harry is!”

“It’s to be expected, I suppose,” Hermione replied, ignoring Ron completely. “After losing Sirius we knew he’d be in mourning, and then we all let him down. It’s no surprise that he’s become a bit... short tempered.”

“ _Short tempered?_ ” Ron scoffed. “He’s gone completely bonkers! He seriously thinks he can beat You-Know-Who without Dumbledore’s help. He’s delusional.”

“He does have the support of the Ministry now...” Ginny offered uncertainly.

Ron snorted, “No he doesn’t! Scrimgeour’s just using him as a figurehead. You know what the Ministry is like. They’ll make a lot of noise but they won’t actually _do_ anything. That’s why Dumbledore created the Order of the Phoenix – to actually do something.”

“The Ministry did declared War...” Ginny noted.

“Yeah and it made a great headline,” Ron admitted, “but what does that actually mean? What’s changed? What are they actually going to do? Nothing! It was just the usual sabre rattling. Meanwhile, Dumbledore’s trying to actually defeat You-Know-Who but Harry’s undermining his efforts.”

“Maybe,” Hermione replied dubiously, “though it has only been a day. The Ministry might still do something...”

“They won’t,” Ron insisted confidently, “which is why we have to support Dumbledore. He’s the only person You-Know-Who has ever been afraid of. Without Dumbledore we don’t stand a chance.”

“Oh I wish I knew what to do!” Hermione whined. Harry could almost see her pacing the room and wringing her hands in worry. “This is a disaster! What we did was supposed to help! I thought it would give Harry a nice quiet year. But we’ve made everything a hundred times worse!”

“It’s not our fault he’s gone mental!” Ron objected. “But Dumbledore will sort him out. I reckon he’ll come here at breakfast and put Harry in his place. Once the arrogant git is back in his box everything will go back to normal.”

“Is that why you’ve emerged from your pit so early,” Ginny asked, “to see Harry get stomped?”

“He threatened our family!” Ron screeched.

“It wasn’t a threat Ron,” Hermione responded, “he was just...”

“ _I know a threat when I hear one!_ ” Ron interrupted, almost yelling.

“Ron that’s ridiculous!” Hermione shot back. “This is Harry we’re talking about! He’s our friend!”

“He _was_ our friend, you mean. He’s made it very clear that he isn’t any more.”

“He doesn’t really mean that,” Hermione said in a small voice. “He’s just upset...”

“Well you would know I suppose,” he retorted bitterly, “since he’s been your boyfriend the last three years!”

A brief silence fell over the room before Hermione spoke again.

“That was just _Witch Weekly_ making stuff up,” she mumbled.

In the background Ginny could be heard sniggering, which probably didn’t help.

“If you say so,” Ron muttered grumpily, “but I’ve seen the way you look at Harry... with his fancy clothes and poncy hairstyle and ridiculous uniform. You’re like a dog in heat.”

Harry and Tonks both snatched the _Extendible Ears_ out as Hermione shrieked in outrage.

“ _Are you calling me a BITCH?_ ” Hermione screamed, loudly enough that they could hear her without the _Extendible Ears_.

“ _What?_ ” Ron replied, sounding confused, “No, of course not!”

“He did call you a dog though,” Ginny noted helpfully.

“ _In heat_ ,” Ron repeated with heavy emphasis, as if he expected that to actually defuse the situation.

“ _Oh that’s rich coming from you!_ ” Hermione scoffed. ” _You’ve been drooling over Fleur and Tonks like a love-sick puppy all bloody summer!_ ”

A bitter argument ensued, in which Hermione and Ron both accused the other of fawning all over someone else, without ever explaining why they would care. The dispute eventually culminated in Ron storming from the room and slamming the door behind him.

Tonks raised an eyebrow at Harry, who quickly wiped the grin from his face. He was saved from having to explain his reaction by a knock at the door. Harry stared at Tonks in wide-eyed alarm.

“ _Just a minute!_ ” he called out.

They both scrambled frantically to put some pyjamas on, then Tonks messed up the covers on her bed, grabbed her wand and opened the door cautiously. Mr Weasley was standing in the hallway with a resigned expression on his face. He glanced back towards the stairs, where Ron could be heard stomping angrily back up to his room. Mr Weasley sighed heavily, and then turned to face Tonks and Harry.

“Sorry to disturb you. Dumbledore asked me to return this.”

Mr Weasley held out the Head Boy badge. Tonks glanced over her shoulder towards Harry, who was standing a couple of meters behind her. He shot her an ‘I told you so’ look and conspicuously failed to step forward to accept the badge.

“Thank you Arthur,” Tonks answered on Harry’s behalf. “I can’t help noticing that you chose to take it in front of an audience, but you’re attempting to return it in private. Did Dumbledore tell you to do that?”

Mr Weasley was momentarily flumoxed, “No of course not! I just...”

“Instinctively knew that’s what he would want?” Tonks finished for him.

Mr Weasley opened his mouth to reply, but then snapped it shut again.

“Maybe you should think about that for a while,” Tonks suggested as she closed the door in his face.

\- § -

After a quick shower Harry and Tonks descended the stairs for breakfast. They bumped into Hermione leaving Ginny’s room. The bushy-haired girl looked startled and gave Harry a slightly fearful look, as if worried that he might fly off the handle at the drop of a hat. She quickly looked away and pulled a scrap of parchment from her pocket, which she handed to Tonks rather awkwardly.

Tonks unfolded it and read the contents, “This is it? This spell will do the job?”

Hermione nodded.

“No matter how much there is?”

Hermione withered, but nodded.

Tonks stepped in close, whispering right into Hermione’s ear, “No matter how _hard_ and _deep_ it was _pounded_ in there, this will get it out?”

Hermione wilted even further, wincing at the words ‘hard’ and ‘deep’ and ‘pounded’, but nodded again.

“Wow! Thanks Hermione!” Tonks gushed. “Phew! That’s a relief! I’m starting to feel like a mobile sperm bank with all these swimmers sloshing around inside me.”

Hermione’s cheeks flushed bright red.

Tonks had a thought, “Hey, would this work if Harry went exploring... _Ain Alley_?”

Hermione gave her a blank look, “Is that near Diagon Alley? And why would Harry need...”

Tonks snorted, “No Hermione, I’m talking about... you know... the _Honeydukes_ _Hallway_.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “The _Chocolate Chimney_ , the _Hershey Highway_ , the _Tradesman’s Entrance_ , the _Rusty Sheriff’s Badge_ , the _Bakerloo Line_ , the _Backstage Passage_...”

Harry had thought it was impossible for Hermione to blush any brighter than she already had, but he was wrong. He could almost feel the heat from her face, though his cheeks were burning too. Hermione stared resolutely at the floor and nodded in mute mortification.

Tonks was delighted, “Awesome! Something new for us to try Harry! You’re a star, Hermione. I owe you one.”

With a squeak, Hermione fled down the stairs. Tonks watched her go and then collapsed into fits of giggles.

“That girl is hilarious,” she declared, then dragged Harry down the stairs. “Come on let’s go, I’m starving!”

They were the last to take their seats for breakfast. Ron and Hermione had taken chairs at opposite ends of the table and seemed to be studiously ignoring each other. The only spaces left were on opposite sides – one between Ron and Mr Weasley, the other between Fleur and Hermione.

Tonks surprised Harry by taking the one between Mr Weasley and Ron, but the reason for that became clear when Mr Weasley rose from his seat. Without a word, he strode over to Harry and placed the Head Boy badge on the table in front of him. By taking the seat next to Mr Weasley, instead of Harry taking it, Tonks had forced Mr Weasley to draw attention to himself when he returned the badge.

“Thank you Mr Weasley,” Harry said neutrally.

“I have some news,” Mr Weasley announced as he returned to his seat. “Professor Snape has reported You-Know-Who’s reaction to hearing the prophecy.”

Everyone suddenly sat up straight. Mr Weasley had their complete attention.

“At first he was furious,” Mr Weasley disclosed. “He flew into a rage and crucio’d several of his followers, starting with Peter Pettigrew. But then he went very quiet, pacing back and forth thinking, and finally he burst out laughing. He was jubilant for the rest of the evening.”

A broad grin split Harry face, “Let me guess. Dumbledore was delighted when he heard that?”

“Yes he was,” Bill confirmed. “How did you know?”

Mr Weasley gave Bill a sharp look. Clearly Bill wasn’t supposed to reveal that.

Harry shrugged, “They both think they’ve outsmarted the other. Voldemort believes he was right about what the power is, and that he’s neutralised it by using my blood. Dumbledore believes he’s wrong, for some reason.”

“And what are you looking so smug about?” Ron spat. “Do you think you’ve outsmarted them both?”

“No,” Harry replied calmly. “I’m happy because the _Occlumency_ lessons that Tonks has been giving me have worked. When Voldemort flew into a rage I felt and saw nothing. He can no longer invade my mind.”

“ _Oh Harry that’s wonderful!_ ” Hermione said with genuine delight. She leant towards him to give him a hug, but then thought better of it and looked away in embarrassment. Tonks gave Harry a warm smile. Nobody else commented.

The rest of breakfast was somewhat awkward and subdued. Everyone was absorbed in their own thoughts. Mr Weasley had no more news to impart, and refused to disclose anything else that the Order had discovered. Harry strongly suspected that Dumbledore had deliberately instructed Mr Weasley to reveal Voldemort’s reaction in an effort to make Harry feel bad. To most people, Voldemort’s joy at hearing the prophecy would imply that disclosing it had been a terrible mistake. Dumbledore would expect Harry to be devastated at his mistake, and resolve to do what he was told in future. Sadly for the Headmaster, Harry had reached a different conclusion.

In any case, far from his thoughts being filled with regret about the prophecy, Harry felt strangely heartened by the baleful glances that Hermione and Ron kept shooting at each other. He did note that Dumbledore had successfully distracted everyone's attention away from the return of his Head Boy badge though.

\- § -

As soon as they were back in their room Tonks stripped naked and grabbed an empty half-pint glass.

“You might want to turn away for this Harry.” She shrugged, “Or watch? I’m not sure – your call.”

Without waiting for him to decide, she put the glass between her legs and breathed out heavily. A torrent of pearly white liquid gushed out of her pussy, rapidly filled the glass half way, and then slowed to a steady trickle. After a minute or so, it looked like there was no more. Tonks wiped a few hanging ropes of sticky spooge from herself and held up the glass. It was almost half full.

“Crikey Harry!” Tonks exclaimed. “That’s just from this morning!”

“Not yesterday too?” Harry replied in confusion.

Tonks gave him a look, “Don’t be daft Harry. I did go to the loo yesterday you know.”

“Oh right. Well um... sorry?”

“Don’t be sorry! It’s bloody marvellous and it felt amazing. We’re gonna have some fun with that, don’t you worry. Anyway, let’s see if Hermione’s jizz-hoovering spell works.”

Tonks put the glass down on a table and waved her wand at it, “ _Exsorbeo sperma!_ ”

The thick liquid flowed upwards out of the glass and hovered in an undulating ivory ball in the air. Tonks waved her wand and the ball floated towards the sink, then dropped into it with a wet splash. Tonks examined the glass. “Clean as a whistle. Nice!”

She skipped over the bed and lay down on her back with her knees in the air.

With her wand pointing between her legs she repeated, “ _Exsorbeo sperma!_ ”

More creamy liquid poured out of her and formed a growing pearly sphere rotating slowly in the air.

“Ooo, that feels weird!” she exclaimed, grimacing.

Once the flow dwindled she levitated the ball of sperm over to the glass and dropped it in. It landed with a dull splat.

“Another quarter of a glass, Harry! That’s some pair of magical testicles you’ve got there. You’re producing about ten times as much spunk as your balls can possibly hold.”

She poured the jizz down the sink. “You know what I think? I think you like defiling me so much that you’re performing accidental magic, you beast.”

Harry gave her a sheepish grin. It _was_ a bit of a turn-on knowing he’d pumped all of that into her, and he was feeling rather pleased with himself.

Tonks groaned, “Ugh! Typical man!”

Her expression became more mischievous, “You better watch yourself though Harry. What do you think will happen if you inject that much baby-batter into a girl?”

The grin fell from Harry’s face.

Tonks sidled up to him, ran her finger down his chest and looked up at him with sultry eyes.

“I might be up the duff right now Harry. I’ve had your little tadpoles inside me for most of the last thirty two hours. Maybe there’s another little Potter on the way...”

Harry felt all the blood drain from his face. Oh God, he hadn’t thought of that! Tonks might be pregnant! She might be carrying his baby! Harry wavered on his feet. A baby! Tonks was wonderful... and someday he would love to have children... but not yet! He was only sixteen! He had a war to fight! He started to hyperventilate.

Tonks burst out laughing, “Oh Harry, your face! Classic!”

“You mean... You’re not...” he stuttered, “You were j... joking?”

Tonks rolled her eyes, “Of course I was joking you prat. Men might be daft enough to have sex without thinking of the consequences, but women aren’t. Well, not usually. There are potions to prevent pregnancy Harry.”

“There are?” he replied numbly.

“Of course there are!”

“And you took one?”

“Actually no,” Tonks admitted.

“ _No?_ ” Harry squeaked in alarm.

Tonks snorted, “Relax Harry. I’m a metamorphmagus. I can stop myself ovulating. I won’t get pregnant unless I want to.”

Harry exhaled massively in relief, and his heart began its slow journey from his throat back to his chest.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four more chapters at the Burrow (excluding “bonus smut chapters”) and then it’s back to Hogwarts...


	23. Draco’s Detour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: This chapter includes the mention of the _theoretical_ possibility of a non-consensual sex act, but nothing like that will actually happen in this story.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Harry spent most of it learning destructive spells with Tonks on the far side of the orchard. Hermione and Ginny came out to watch them blow stuff up for a while, then went back to the house.

That evening Tonks once again joined Harry in his bed. She leaned on one elbow to stare down at him, “There is something I need to talk to you about.”

“There is?” Harry asked sleepily.

“Yes Harry. You’ve been a very naughty boy.”

He wondered vaguely where this was going. Her tone was cheerful and light-hearted though, so he wasn’t particularly worried.

“Naughty how?” he enquired.

“Naughty when you told me that pack of lies about Scrimgeour sending everyone in the Order of the Phoenix to Azkaban.”

Harry’s blood suddenly ran cold. Icy shards ripped through his heart, shredding the joy he’d built over the last few weeks.

Oh God. His amazing new life was ruined. Tonks had discovered his lie!

Panic overwhelmed him. Tonks was going to desert him, just like everyone else had. A rock landed in the pit of his stomach and his eyes prickled. He turned his face away wretchedly, unable to look at her. There was no point making excuses. He’d been caught. It was over. He felt like he was drowning in a bleak and endless sea of misery...

“Harry, look at me.” Tonks said gently.

He shook his head. He couldn’t. He couldn’t look at her. He was too heartbroken. Bitter tears of despair gathered in the corners of eyes and a lump the size of a grapefruit formed in his throat. He fought desperately to keep his emotions bottled up, but they slipped relentlessly though his fingers, refusing to be contained.

She leaned forwards and kissed him on the cheek, “Harry, I’m not going to leave you. I _forgive you_ , Harry.”

He didn’t dare believe her. He didn’t dare hope. He could barely hold on as it was.

Tonks kissed him again on the cheek, and then on his forehead, and then every other part of his face.

Over and over she kissed him, and each time she said, “I forgive you.”

A faint flicker of light began to blossom in his chest, but he ignored it. Glimmers of hope were just cruel taunts sent to lift him up before his broken body was smashed upon the rocks once again. Gaining and then losing Sirius had taught him that. Nothing good in his life ever lasted. Nothing! How could he have forgotten that?

When Harry first came to Hogwarts he thought he’d finally escaped the cruelty and bullying of the Dursleys, but it was merely replaced by the cruelty and bullying of Snape, Malfoy, Fudge and Umbridge. He also discovered that the magical world held many dangers. Barely a term went by without someone or something trying to do him serious harm. Harry’s hopes for happiness had been lifted by the prospect of moving in with his Godfather, but were soon dashed when Lupin’s failure to take his Wolfsbane led to Pettigrew’s escape and Sirius going on the run. The few remaining bright spots in Harry’s tormented existence – Ron, Hermione, Quidditch and Dumbledore – had all been stripped from him in subsequent years. Ron abandoned Harry at the start of his fourth year, Dumbledore blanked Harry for the whole of fifth year, Harry had been banned from Quidditch, and then he’d lost Sirius. The final nail in the coffin of his happiness was when Hermione betrayed him just a few weeks ago. Harry had absolutely nothing left.

Miraculously, he'd been saved from total despair by Tonks. She'd stumbled into his life when he desperately needed a friend, and now he couldn’t imagine living without her. She was the only bright light in the dark landscape of his existence, and the only thing that kept him going. Even Mr Weasley, who had briefly seemed like a trustworthy father-figure, had turned against Harry and become Dumbledore’s puppet. If Tonks left him, Harry would have literally nothing to live for – he might as well put his wand to his head and finish the job that Voldemort started sixteen years ago.

Tonks placed a hand on his cheek and forced him to turn his face towards her. She kissed him tenderly on the lips. It felt wonderful and heartbreakingly cruel at the same time. How could he go on without Tonks in his life?

When she drew back, Tonks held his gaze, daring him to doubt her. “ _I forgive you._ ”

What little control he’d managed to maintain crumbled completely. He grabbed Tonks and pulled her close so she wouldn’t see his tortured expression, but his emotions quickly got the better of him. He’d almost lost her! He’d almost lost Tonks! It was too terrible to even contemplate. All the times he’d kept his emotions bottled up... all the times he’d been beaten down and refused to show his grief... they all came back to haunt him now. He’d built a damn to contain his anguish, but the last five years had chipped away at the fabric of that barrier, battering him with one setback after another, while his grief deepened like a coastal shelf. Losing Sirius had left his defences catastrophically weakened and the prospect of losing Tonks hit him like a wrecking ball, utterly smashing his resolve. A torrent of suppressed pain burst free and quickly overwhelmed him.

A strangled sob forced its way between his lips, and then the flood gates opened. Harry suddenly found himself weeping uncontrollably, his body wracked with vast shudders. He tried to pull himself together, but there was no holding his grief in check now. He’d felt like his life was over. Nothing mattered if he lost Tonks! Nothing!

For several long minutes Harry bawled into Tonks’ increasingly damp shoulder, until he became aware that she was stroking his head soothingly and saying, “Shhhhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, I’m here...” over and over.

Abruptly mortified at his unmanly display, Harry fiercely wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to escape from the bed. But Tonks was having none of that. She pinned him down and looked him resolutely in the eye.

“Harry, I know you didn’t lie for your own benefit. You lied to save others. I can hardly hate you for that, can I? I think you’re an amazing person, Harry, and I’m determined to keep you that way. I’ve seen all three sides that are fighting against Voldemort. In fact,” she snorted wryly, “I’m _on_ all three sides – I’m an Auror for the Ministry, a member of Dumbledore’s Order, and a bodyguard to you. I’ve seen all three, and I chose _you_ Harry. You’re the one I want to follow. You’re the one who’s going to win this war, not them. So you can rely on me, okay Harry? I won’t desert you and I won’t betray you. It’s _you and me_ against the world now Harry... you and me _together_ , okay?”

Harry wiped his eyes again and nodded, sniffing loudly. He still refused to meet her gaze though.

She pulled him into a hug and squeezed him tight, “Just don’t lie to me again Harry. There’s no need.”

Harry tried to speak but his voice failed him. He had to cough twice before he could get any words out.

“Okay,” he mumbled. A few seconds later he managed a few more, “How did you... how did you figure it out?”

“I was suspicious the day after I arrived at the Burrow. It just... didn’t ring true somehow. Honestly, I don’t think I’d have fallen for it if I hadn’t been such a mess that day. And then every time we practiced _Occlumency_ I sensed the intense guilt you suffered whenever you thought about that meeting.”

“So you’ve known all along?” Harry asked quietly.

“Pretty much,” she confirmed.

“Oh right,” he replied self-consciously. In some ways that made it better, and in some ways that made it worse. “Well um... thanks Tonks... for... you know, not deserting me. I... I don’t think I could stand to lose you. Everyone I’ve ever loved or trusted has left me. I couldn’t bear it if you did too.”

“I won’t Harry.” She assured him as she wiped away his tears with her thumbs. “In any case, I lied to you too.”

“You did?”

Tonks shifted uncomfortably, “A little bit. You know how I said we had to have showers together for security reasons?”

“Yeah...” he replied uncertainly.

“Um, well... that was total hippogriff dung. I’ve fancied you since the first time we met... and well... I just wanted to get your kit off. I’m sorry Harry, can you ever forgive me?”

Despite everything, a laugh escaped him. The notion that she’d done anything wrong was beyond silly.

“I don’t know,” he replied with transparently fake solemnity, “that’s an awful thing to do...”

“I know,” she replied mournfully, lowering her eyes. “I’m a terrible person. How can I make it up to you?”

“Give me a hug and we’ll call it quits?” Harry offered.

“Done!” she replied eagerly and grabbed him in a fierce embrace.

They stayed like that for a long time, just enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies, until sleep eventually claimed them.

\- § -

Saturday finally arrived. At breakfast Mrs Weasley seemed very tense about their shopping trip to Diagon Alley. Bill, who would be staying at home with Fleur (to shag her senseless, Harry suspected), passed a full money bag across the table to Harry.

“Where’s mine?” demanded Ron at once, his eyes wide.

“That’s already Harry’s, idiot,” said Bill. “I got it out of your vault for you, Harry, because it’s taking about five hours for the public to get to their gold at the moment, the goblins have tightened security so much. Two days ago Arkie Philpott had a Probity Probe stuck up his... well, trust me, this way’s easier.”

“Thanks Bill,” said Harry, pocketing his gold.

“’E is always so thoughtful,” purred Fleur adoringly, stroking Bill’s nose. Ginny mimed vomiting into her cereal behind Fleur.

Tonks interjected, “Don’t forget to give Harry his key back, Bill. He’s an adult now. He’s going to need it.”

Mrs Weasley frowned in disapproval, but Bill was unfazed.

“Oh, right! Yes of course. Sorry Harry!” Bill handed over the key, which Harry hadn’t seen for three years. Apparently Dumbledore and the Weasley family thought it was okay to just pass his vault key round among themselves without asking him. With difficulty, Harry repressed the irritation that caused him. He did wonder how Winky and Dobby had gained access to his vault though. Did Winky automatically have access, since she was his bonded elf? What about Dobby? Did Dobby just ask Winky to do it? Or did they know where the Weasleys kept his vault key and just took it when they needed it? He resolved to ask next time he saw them. Also, now he thought about it, maybe he should get them to request a statement of what he had in his vaults. Right now all he knew was that he had shitloads of money.

It was an overcast, murky day. One of the special Ministry of Magic cars, in which Harry had ridden once before, was awaiting them in the front yard when they emerged from the house pulling on their cloaks.

“It’s good Dad can get us these again,” said Ron appreciatively, stretching luxuriously as the car moved smoothly away from the Burrow, Bill and Fleur waving from the kitchen window. Ron, Harry, Tonks, Hermione and Ginny were all sitting in roomy comfort in the back seat. Harry looked back at the Burrow and caught sight of Bill and Fleur in a passionate embrace. He wondered idly if Bill was going to shag Fleur right there on the kitchen table. He very much suspected that he was.

“Don’t get used to it,” said Mr Weasley over his shoulder, “it’s only because of Harry”.

He and Mrs Weasley were in front with the Ministry driver; the front passenger seat had obligingly stretched into what resembled a two-seater sofa. “He’s been given top-grade security status. And we’ll be joining up with additional security at the Leaky Cauldron, too.”

“Because the rest of us don’t matter at all,” Ron mumbled bitterly, too quietly for his parents to hear.

Hermione gave Ron a sharp look, but everyone else ignored him. Harry was thinking about the car. It was clearly magically-enhanced, which Harry found puzzling. Wasn’t it illegal to enchant muggle objects? Hadn’t Mr Weasley got in trouble for doing the same thing to the Ford Anglia that Harry and Ron flew to Hogwarts in second year? The car also travelled at impossibly high speeds, weaving in and out of the much slower muggle traffic a lot like the Knight Bus did, but without throwing passengers all around the interior. It was actually a surprisingly comfortable ride and Harry’s deliberations gradually faded into the background as he nodded off.

“Here you are, then,” said the driver a surprisingly short while later, speaking for the first time as he slowed in Charing Cross Road and stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron. “I’m to wait for you, any idea how long you’ll be?”

“A couple of hours, I expect,” said Mr Weasley. “Ah, good, he’s here!”

Harry peered through the window and his heart leapt. There were no Aurors waiting outside the inn, but instead the gigantic, black-bearded form of Rubeus Hagrid wearing a long beaver-skin coat, beaming at the sight of Harry’s face and oblivious to the startled stares of passing Muggles. A broad grin split Harry’s face. How had he forgotten Hagrid, his first ever friend in the magical world? He had two friends – Tonks and Hagrid. Three if he counted Dobby, which Harry decided firmly that he should, and of course Neville and Luna... Suddenly the world didn’t seem quite so dark.

“Harry!” the half-giant boomed, sweeping Harry into a bone-crushing hug the moment Harry had stepped out of the car. “Buckbeak – Witherwings, I mean – yeh should see him, Harry, he’s so happy ter be back in the open air...”

“Glad he’s pleased,” said Harry, grinning as he massaged his ribs. “We didn’t know ‘security’ meant you!”

“I know, jus’ like old times, innit? See, the Ministry wanted ter send a bunch o’ Aurors, but Dumbledore said I’d do,” Hagrid stated proudly. Harry wondered if Dumbledore knew something he didn’t, because surely one Killing Curse from a Death Eater would take Hagrid down?

The Leaky Cauldron was, for the first time in Harry’s memory, completely empty. They walked through the bar and out into the chilly little courtyard at the back where the dustbins stood. Hagrid raised his pink umbrella and rapped a certain brick in the wall, which opened at once to form an archway on to a winding cobbled street. They stepped through the entrance and paused, looking around.

Diagon Alley had changed. The colourful, glittering window displays of spellbooks, potion ingredients and cauldrons were lost to view, hidden behind the large Ministry of Magic posters that had been pasted over them. Most of these sombre purple posters carried blown-up versions of the security advice on the Ministry pamphlets that had been sent out over the summer, but others bore moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the loose. Bellatrix Lestrange was sneering from the front of the nearest apothecary. A few windows were boarded up, including those of Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour. On the other hand, a number of shabby-looking stalls had sprung up along the street. It was quite a shock to see the Alley like this, and really drove home how bad the situation had become. Harry felt a new sense of urgency to move his plans along.

At Mr Weasley’s suggestion, he and Mrs Weasley took Ginny to Flourish and Blotts to get all their books, while Hagrid accompanied Harry, Tonks, Hermione and Ron to Madam Malkin’s. Harry noticed that many of the people who passed them had the same harried, anxious look as Mrs Weasley, and that nobody was stopping to talk anymore; the shoppers stayed together in their own tightly knit groups, moving intently about their business. Nobody seemed to be shopping alone. Hagrid stood guard outside the shop while the rest of them trooped in.

It appeared, at first glance, to be empty, but they heard a familiar voice issuing from behind a rack of dress robes. A teenage boy with a pale, pointed face and white-blond hair appeared from behind the rack wearing a handsome set of dark green robes that glittered with pins around the hem and the edges of the sleeves. He strode to the mirror and examined himself; it was a few moments before he noticed Harry, Ron and Hermione’s reflections over his shoulder. His light grey eyes narrowed.

“If you’re wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in,” said Draco Malfoy nastily.

“I don’t think there’s any need for language like that!” said Madam Malkin, scurrying out from behind the clothes rack holding a tape measure and a wand. “And I don’t want wands drawn in my shop, either!” she added hastily, for a glance towards the door had shown her Harry and Ron both standing there with their wands out and pointing at Malfoy.

Hermione, who was standing slightly behind them, whispered, “No, don’t! Honestly, it’s not worth it...”

“Yeah, like you’d dare do magic out of school,” sneered the blond boy.

“Did you fail to read the newspaper recently, Malfoy?” Harry wondered.

“That’s quite enough!” said Madam Malkin sharply, looking over her shoulder for support. “Madam – please...”

Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack.

“Put those away,” she said coldly to Harry and Ron. “If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do.”

“Is that so?” said Harry, taking a step forwards and gazing into her smoothly arrogant face. He was as tall as she was now. “Auror Tonks, I do believe that two suspected Death Eaters have just threatened my life. That would be grounds for arrest and questioning, wouldn’t you agree?”

Tonks, un-noticed by everyone, had been circling the room and now stood with her wand trained on Narcissa Malfoy’s back. “Yes Harry, I would.”

At exactly the same time, Harry and Tonks both cast, “ _Stupefy!_ ”

Harry’s wand was already pointed at Draco and Tonks’ was already pointed at his mother. The Malfoys didn’t stand a chance. Both crumpled to the floor.

Mrs Malkin shrieked as Hermione gasped, “Harry! You can’t do that!”

Harry stepped towards Malfoy’s prone body, “No? _Watch me._ ”

He grabbed the blond boy’s sleeve and yanked it up to reveal a fresh and rather sore-looking Dark Mark tattoo.

“I have a confirmed Death Eater over here, Auror Tonks!” Harry shouted to Tonks.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Ron exclaimed, as Hermione shrieked in shock.

“Understood,” Tonks replied in clipped tones as she checked Mrs Malfoy, “No Mark on this one, but we’ll still need to question her.”

A second later, Tonks’ jackrabbit patronus leapt through the wall and was gone.

“Please take Madam Malkin into the back, Hermione.” Tonks instructed firmly. She didn’t wait for a response.

Harry began searching Draco, while Tonks thoroughly searched Narcissa. The Malfoys’ wands were quickly confiscated, and then Tonks cast _Petrificus Totalus_ on them both.

With a pop-pop-pop-pop four Aurors appeared inside the shop, which had become quite crowded.

Tonks was all business. “One confirmed Death Eater and one suspected Death Eater to be taken in for questioning under _Veritaserum_ ,” she reported, handing over their wands.

The four Aurors were similarly efficient – in seconds, they’d grabbed the prisoners and _disapparated_. The shop fell abruptly quiet.

“Bloody Hell!” Ron swore into the sudden silence. “That was amazing!”

“New procedures,” Tonks replied evenly. She shouted over her shoulder, “Hermione, Madam Malkin, you can come back now. We’ve taken out the trash.”

“Sorry about that Madam Malkin,” said Harry as they reappeared uncertainly from the back, “it seems you had a couple of Death Eaters in the shop. All sorted now.”

Madam Malkin looked like she might faint. She was distracted all through the fitting of Ron and Harry’s new robes, tried to sell Hermione wizard’s dress robes instead of witch’s, and when she finally bowed them out of the shop it was with an air of needing a stiff drink and a friendly ear.

“Got ev’rything?” asked Hagrid brightly when they reappeared at his side.

“Just about,” said Harry, wondering once again about Hagrid’s value as a bodyguard. He must be as deaf as a post to have missed what took place inside Madam Malkin’s.

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks, but before they could tell Hagrid what happened, Mr and Mrs Weasley and Ginny appeared, all clutching heavy packages of books.

“Everyone all right?” said Mrs Weasley. “Got your robes? Right then, we can pop in at the apothecary and Eeylops on the way to Fred and George’s – stick close, now...”

Neither Harry nor Ron bought any ingredients at the apothecary. Ron was no longer studying Potions and Harry didn’t know for sure that Snape wouldn’t be teaching it. Instead they both bought large boxes of owl nuts for Hedwig and Pigwidgeon at Eeylops Owl Emporium. Then, with Mrs Weasley checking her watch every minute or so, they headed further along the street in search of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, the joke shop run by Fred and George.

“Whoa,” said Ron, stopping in his tracks. Set against the dull, poster-covered shop fronts around them, Fred and George’s windows hit the eye like a firework display. Casual passers-by were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced and shrieked; Harry’s eyes began to water just looking at it.

The right-hand window was covered with a gigantic poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:

_Why Are You Worrying About You-Know-Who?  
You SHOULD Be Worrying About U-NO-POO –  
the Constipation Sensation That’s Gripping the Nation!_

Harry started to laugh. He heard a weak sort of moan beside him and looked round to see Mrs Weasley gazing, dumbfounded, at the poster. Her lips moved, silently mouthing the name, ‘U-No-Poo.’

“They’ll be murdered in their beds!” she whispered.

“No they won’t!” said Ron, who like Harry was laughing. “This is brilliant!”

Harry led the way into the shop. It was packed with customers; Harry could not get near the shelves. He stared around, looking up at the boxes piled to the ceiling: here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had perfected during their last, unfinished year at Hogwarts; Harry noticed that the Nosebleed Nougat was most popular, with only one battered box left on the shelf. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of pants when waved; the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck; boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking and Smart-Answer varieties. A space cleared in the crowd and Harry pushed his way towards the counter.

Hermione had managed to squeeze through to a large display near the counter and was reading the information on the back of a box bearing a highly coloured picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl on the deck of a pirate ship.

_One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic thirty-minute daydream,  
easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable  
(side-effects include vacant expression and minor drooling).  
Not for sale to under-sixteens._

“You know,” said Hermione, looking up at Harry, “that really is extraordinary magic!”

“For that, Hermione,” said a voice behind them, “you can have one for free.” A beaming Fred stood before them, wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed magnificently with his flaming hair. “How are you, Harry?” They shook hands. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour...” Harry and Tonks followed him through the shop, leaving Hermione behind. “Oh, here’s George...”

Fred’s twin shook Harry’s hand energetically. “Giving him the tour? Come through to the back, Harry, that’s where we’re making the real money.” George pushed back a curtain and Harry saw a darker, less crowded room. The packaging on the products lining these shelves was more subdued.

“We’ve just developed this more serious line,” said Fred. “Funny how it happened...”

“You wouldn’t believe how many people, even people who work at the Ministry, can’t do a decent Shield Charm,” said George. “Course, they didn’t have you teaching them, Harry.”

“That’s right...” Fred took over, “and we thought Shield Hats were a bit of a laugh. You know – challenge your mate to jinx you while wearing it and watch his face when the jinx just bounces off. But the Ministry bought five hundred for all the support staff! And we’re still getting massive orders!”

“So we’ve expanded into a range of Shield Cloaks, Shield Gloves...”

“I mean, they wouldn’t help much against the Unforgivable Curses, but for minor to moderate hexes or jinxes...”

"And then we thought we’d get into the whole area of Defence Against the Dark Arts, because it’s such a money-spinner,” continued George enthusiastically. “This is cool. Look, Instant Darkness Powder, we’re importing it from Peru. Handy if you want to make a quick escape.”

A young witch with short blonde hair poked her head round the curtain; Harry saw that she too was wearing magenta staff robes. “There’s a customer out here looking for a joke cauldron, Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley,” she said. Harry found it very odd to hear Fred and George called ‘Mr Weasley’, but they took it in their stride.

“Right you are, Verity, I’m coming,” said George promptly. “Harry, you help yourself to anything you want, all right? No charge.”

“I can’t do that!” said Harry.

“You don’t pay here,” said Fred firmly.

“You gave us our start-up loan, we haven’t forgotten,” said George sternly. “Take whatever you like, and just remember to tell people where you got it, if they ask.”

George swept off through the curtain to help with the customers and Fred led Harry back into the main part of the shop to find Hermione and Ginny still poring over the Patented Daydream Charms.

“Haven’t you girls found our special WonderWitch products yet?” asked Fred. “Follow me, ladies...”

Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was giggling enthusiastically. Hermione and Ginny both hung back, looking wary.

“There you go,” said Fred proudly. “Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow sceptically, “Do they work?”

“Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question...”

“...and the attractiveness of the girl,” said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. “But we’re not selling them to our sister,” he added, becoming suddenly stern, “not when she’s already got about five boys on the go from what we’ve...”

“Whatever you’ve heard from Ron is a big fat lie,” said Ginny calmly.

Tonks snorted. Ginny glared at her.

“Are you, or are you not, currently going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?’” Fred pressed.

“Yes, I am,” said Ginny. “And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?” She was pointing at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.

“Pygmy Puffs,” said George. “Miniature puffskeins, we can’t breed them fast enough. So what about Michael Corner?”

“I dumped him, he was a bad loser,” said Ginny, putting a finger through the bars of the cage and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it. “They’re really cute!”

“They’re fairly cuddly, yes,” conceded Fred. “But you’re moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren’t you?”

Ginny turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs Weasley-ish glare on her face that Harry was surprised Fred didn’t recoil. “It’s none of your business. And I’ll thank you,” she added angrily to Ron, who had just appeared at George’s elbow, laden with merchandise, “not to tell tales about me to these two!”

Tonks leaned over and whispered in Harry’s ear, “Bet she’s shagging boys in broom cupboards before the end of the year.”

Harry ignored her and grabbed Fred, “Can I talk to you two in the back?”

Fred gave him a curious look then nodded. Harry and Tonks slipped away, followed shortly after by Fred and George.

Tonks stood guard outside the curtain while Harry spoke to the twins. “Guys, I really like the Defence products, but I’d like to get them into the hands of the public, not just the Ministry. Could you give some thought to how fast you could ramp-up production? Hire as many people as you need. Buy whatever raw materials or facilities you need. I’ll provide the start-up capital. Speed is of the essence here, not profit, so don’t worry about what it costs. I’ll have twenty five thousand galleons transferred to you tonight.”

“ _Twenty five thousand!_ ” the twins gasped at the same time.

“If you need more just say, okay?”

“ _More?_ ” Fred whispered, incredulously.

“If you have any other ideas for how to protect the population let me know. We’re going to start kicking the hornets’ nest soon. When we do, they’ll hit back by going after civilians. We need to be ready. You’ve done an amazing job with the shop, and you were way ahead of me on the Defensive Products, so well done guys. I’m in awe, really.”

George grinned, “Thanks Harry. We’ll have a think and get back to you, okay?”

“Perfect, thanks guys. One other thing – can the Defensive charms be applied to any clothing, including Dragonhide?”

Fred shrugged, “Pretty much, yeah, though for mass-production we obviously have to limit the range. Magically resistant materials like Dragonhide are a bit harder, because the spells have to be applied to the inside surface and yet still be effective on the outside surface. That would require a few tweaks to the charms, but it can be done.”

“Great. If I send you some clothes can you get them charmed for me? I’m happy to pay whatever it costs.”

“Harry we told you – your money is no good here,” George reiterated.

“Well if you’re sure... Thanks guys!” They shook hands again and Harry left for another browse round the shop with Tonks. She was scanning the crowd more than the products, but they both took some Peruvian Darkness Powder, which looked like it might be handy. Mrs Weasley soon gathered everyone up and hustled them back to the car.

A few minutes into the journey, Harry noticed that Tonks had been eying Hermione and Ginny for some time. He was about to ask about it when Tonks spoke, “So girls, I noticed that you were checking out the Love Potions.”

“We were just looking,” replied Hermione, a little too quickly.

Tonks raised an eyebrow, “So if I were to look in your bag, I wouldn’t find one then?”

“ _Don’t you dare!_ ” Hermione screeched, and then blushed as everyone turned to look at her. “A girl’s bag is private,” she added weakly.

“Bit of a moral minefield, Love Potions,” Tonks continued in a casual tone. “I’m surprised they’re not illegal. I mean, suppose some really vile and odious boy who you thoroughly despised slipped you a love potion, and while you were infatuated, you willingly had sex with him. Is that rape?”

Hermione, Ginny and Mrs Weasley all turned various shades of green, while Ron and Mr Weasley looked fit to murder someone.

Tonks continued to eye Hermione and Ginny, “Now what if a girl did the same thing to a boy? Is _that_ rape? Or imagine if some other girl did that to _your_ boyfriend. How would you feel about that? Would that be okay? Would you giggle about it?”

Nobody would meet Tonks’ eyes.

“Of course for all you know, it might have already happened,” Tonks continued. “Suppose one of you girls was working alone in the Library one night and someone like Malfoy or... who were those other two thugs you told me about Harry?”

“Crabbe and Goyle?” he replied.

“Yes them. Suppose they hit you with a stunner and forced a Love Potion down your throat...”

“We would know!” Hermione interrupted, looking deeply sickened. “We’d remember! And there would be signs... evidence!”

“Not if they obliviated you,” Tonks replied, looking Hermione in the eye, “and not if you _swallowed_ the evidence.”

“That’s _enough_!” Mr Weasley shouted forcefully.

The pink-haired Auror threw up her hands in conciliation, “Hey, I’m not the one buying date-rape drugs, but whatever...”

A very uncomfortable silence filled the car for the rest of the journey. Hermione and Ginny both looked rather pale, while Mrs Weasley kept her gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead and steadfastly refused to make eye contact with anyone.

\- § -

As soon as they arrived back at their room in the Burrow, Harry wrapped up his dragon-hide clothes and his Auror-style uniform and asked Winky to deliver them to Fred and George. Tonks did the same.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are lots of fanfics where Hermione's sudden infatuation with Ron, and Harry's sudden infatuation with Ginny, are explained by Love Potions. This will not be one of those stories.


	24. Martial Law

The mood was subdued at dinner that night. Tonks’ comments about Love Potions seemed to have unsettled everyone. Conversation was quiet and sporadic until four owls arrived carrying another special edition of the _Evening Prophet_. Hermione was already scanning her copy as Harry untied his own. The headline read:

_MINISTRY DECLARES MARTIAL LAW!  
CURFEW BEGINS TOMORROW!_

“Oh my God!” exclaimed Hermione, “They’ve declared Martial Law!”

Ron shrugged dismissively, “So? What does that even mean?”

“It means, _Ronald_ ,” Hermione replied waspishly, “that the country is now run by the military – the DLME in this case. All democratic processes are suspended and trials are handled under Military Law not Civilian Law. It’s a _huge_ thing! It means we’ve lost all our civil liberties and now live in a police state. Listen!”

She began to read from the paper:

_The Minister for Magic has today declared a State of Emergency. As a result, the Wizengamot is suspended until further notice, as is our membership of the International Confederation of Wizards. All the responsibilities of those bodies now fall under the control of the Ministry. In particular, all trials will now be conducted by the DMLE under Pius Thicknesse. A strict Curfew will be also enforced during the hours of darkness, starting at sunset tomorrow._

_The following have been declared to be Capital Offences:_

_Casting the ‘Dark Mark’ in the sky  
Wearing a Death Eater robe or mask  
Bearing the so-called ‘Dark Mark’ upon your person  
Being a member of the organisation known as the Death Eaters_

_The following offences are punishable by automatic imprisonment in Azkaban:_

_Aiding or abetting the organisation known as the Death Eaters  
Being in possession of a Death Eater robe or mask  
Being outdoors during Curfew  
Looting_

_In a statement the Minister said, “These measures are necessary to preserve our liberty. Martial Law gives our Aurors the power they need to come down hard on those who seek to destroy our society, and to fast-track their trials and convictions. It is no longer safe to be out after dark, so the Curfew will have no impact on law-abiding citizens. Only those who are up to no good are out after dark these days. Once victory is ours, this State of Emergency will end and we can live once again in peace and freedom.”_

“What’s a Capital Offence?” asked Ron.

“Honestly, Ron!” replied Hermione in exasperation. “It means punishable by death.”

“Bloody Hell!” he replied in surprise.

Mrs Weasley didn’t even twitch at his language. She was staring at the paper in horror, “ _Martial Law, Arthur! Martial Law!_ ”

Mr Weasley put his hand over hers, “I think it’s necessary, dear. This is what happened last time, remember? Barty Crouch was Head of the DMLE and chaired all the trials. He also initiated a ‘kill don’t catch’ policy. They just didn’t call it Martial Law.”

Mrs Weasley stared mutely into space, looking terrified.

“Scrimgeour isn’t messing around, is he?” Bill commented. “I knew he was tough, but wow!”

That sparked a debate that Harry suspected was being duplicated all over the country right now. Bill and Mr Weasley surprised him by being broadly in favour of Scrimgeour’s hard line, Hermione and Mrs Weasley were against it, Fleur and Ginny weren’t sure, and Ron didn’t seem to give two hoots.

Harry and Tonks stayed out of it, until Hermione asked, “Tonks, you’re an Auror, what do you think?”

Tonks shrugged, “I think you’re missing the most important point. It’s all very well talking about the merits of Martial Law in abstract or philosophical terms, but I think of it this way... There are nine people sitting round this table, and I’m confident that _without_ Martial Law some of us would be dead in a year’s time.”

Mrs Weasley visibly paled.

“So the question is,” Tonks continued evenly, “what’s more important to you – the temporary suspension of your civil liberties... or the lives of the people around this table?”

That pretty much ended the conversation. Hermione still looked pensieve, but didn’t reply. Mrs Weasley started bustling around clearing the table to make room for desert, in a transparent attempt to distract herself.

Harry suspected that Hermione objected to Martial Law for the same reason as Mrs Weasley – because she didn’t _want_ it to be necessary. Harry could understand why she’d feel that way – it was hard to accept something that went against everything you believed in – but he couldn’t understand why she failed to realise that what she _wanted_ just wasn’t feasible any more. Mrs Weasley, on the other hand, seemed to believe that if you denied something for long enough it would simply go away. In that regard she was rather typical of the Wizarding population as a whole, but Harry had no time for such catastrophic self-delusion.

There was silence for several minutes, but then Ron suddenly sat up straight.

“Does this mean that Malfoy might be sentenced to _death_?” he asked with a conflicted expression.

Tonks shrugged, “He had the Dark Mark... so yeah he might be.”

“What are you talking about?” Ginny demanded with a frown.

“Draco Malfoy and his Mum were in Madam Malkins when we went for our fittings,” Ron replied excitedly. “They threatened us so Tonks arrested them and had them hauled away like common criminals.”

“You’re kidding!” Ginny exclaimed. “The ferret got arrested and I missed it?”

“Yep,” Ron confirmed. “It was awesome. Harry checked his arm and he had the Dark Mark!”

Mrs Weasley, who was busy plating up a pudding for desert, gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth.

“I hadn’t thought of that!” Hermione said, looking shocked. “Having the Dark Mark is a Capital Offence now!”

“I’m sure his youth and inexperience will be taken into account,” Mr Weasley assured them. “I can’t see Rufus sentencing a sixteen-year-old to death. He’s a hard man, but he’s not uncaring.”

“Depends what crimes Draco has committed,” Tonks countered, “and in particular what he did to earn that Mark. Speculation among the Aurors is that you have to murder a muggle.”

“ _No!_ ” Hermione gasped.

“That’s enough on that subject I think,” Mr Weasley declared firmly. “Let’s all enjoy the desert that Molly has made for us, and not dwell on such grim speculation.”

The conversation moved on to other topics, but Harry was left wondering not just what Draco might have done to earn the Mark, but what _all_ of Voldemort’s followers had done. Harry knew for a fact that Pettigrew was a murderer – Harry had seen him kill Cedric Diggory with his own eyes. Pettigrew had also killed twelve muggles when he framed Sirius. Had Malfoy’s father and Snape done the same? Hundreds, or possibly thousands of people had been killed by Death Eaters in the first war, and people were already being killed in this one. How likely was it that senior Death Eaters like Snape had never murdered anyone in all that time? Even if the nasty git _was_ genuinely working for Dumbledore now (which Harry very much doubted) nothing Snape did could ever make up for murdering an innocent. Dumbledore might think it was okay to turn a blind eye to murder, but Harry most definitely did not.

\- § -

Shortly after Harry and Tonks retired for the evening, there was a hesitant knock at their bedroom door.

“Who is it?” Tonks called.

“It’s um... it’s Hermione,” a small voice answered hesitantly.

Tonks and Harry both frowned. Without being told, Harry grabbed his wand and stood out of sight. Tonks nodded in approval before grabbing her own and whipping the door open unexpectedly.

“Eep!” Hermione exclaimed, as Tonks’ wand appeared in her face.

Tonks glanced left and right down the hallway. Apparently satisfied that Hermione was alone and not under any sort of coercion, she lowered her wand.

“What can we do for you Hermione?” Tonks enquired.

“Can I come in?” Hermione asked, glancing back towards the stairs. “It’s a bit... personal.”

Tonks hesitated for a moment, and then stepped aside to allow Hermione into the room.

“Put your wand on Harry’s nightstand please,” she instructed.

Hermione scowled slightly, but did as instructed without complaint. Harry emerged from behind his wardrobe and eyed his uncomfortable-looking former friend curiously. She, in contrast, seemed to be trying very hard to pretend he wasn’t there.

“It’s um...” Hermione began, wringing her hands nervously, “it’s about what you said in the car.”

“About Love Potions,” Tonks replied with a disapproving look. “So you _did_ buy one?”

“No of course not,” Hermione responded immediately, but then squirmed. “Well I mean... not really. I did buy one, but it wasn’t for me. I bought it for... a friend.”

Tonks snorted, “Ah yes the old, ‘it’s not for me it’s for a friend’ excuse – a thoroughly unconvincing classic.”

“No really!” Hermione insisted. “But I wasn’t referring to that. I meant the other thing... about being forced to take a Love Potion and then obliviated.”

“Ah,” Tonks replied, as if knowing where this was headed. She relaxed for the first time since Hermione had entered the room.

Hermione glanced at Harry and squirmed in discomfort. When she spoke again her voice was hardly more than a squeak, “Could you... could you check if that’s ever happened to me?”

Harry’s eyes went wide. He felt suddenly very uncomfortable and glanced towards the door. He should leave. Hermione wouldn’t want him here for this. But would Tonks allow him to leave? He suspected not, so he stood rooted to the spot, unsure what to do.

The pink-haired Auror sighed heavily, “Yes I can check. Obliviation is a very blunt instrument, a bit like a sledgehammer – it leaves traces, even in the most experienced hands. A Hogwarts student certainly wouldn’t be able to cast it undetected. But are you sure you want me to? Despite what I said in the car, the chances of someone doing that to you are extremely low. I was just making the point that Love Potions aren’t harmless bits of fun.”

Hermione slumped onto Tonks’ bed and sat there looking conflicted, “I don’t know. If it has happened I’ll be devastated, but if I don’t check I’ll always wonder... and it’s already driving me mad...”

Tonks gave her a sympathetic look, “If you’ve been obliviated all I’ll be able to tell you is what time period is missing. Generally speaking, the memories are permanently lost... unless the perpetrator had no idea what they were doing, of course. You won’t know for sure what happened during the time you lost unless you can identify the person who did it and force the information out of them. That could take a while, or prove impossible. You might never know what happened, so are you _absolutely sure_ you want me to do this?”

After a few seconds of hand-wringing Hermione’s back straightened as she said firmly, “Yes. I need to know.”

“Okay,” Tonks replied softly. “Take a seat on the floor and I’ll do it now.”

Hermione’s determination quickly evaporated and her expression turned fearful, but she sank unsteadily to the floor. The two young women sat cross-legged facing each other while Harry tried very hard to become invisible. Allowing no time to reconsider, Tonks aimed her wand between Hermione’s terrified eyes and cast, “ _Legilimens!_ ”

Harry had never seen the spell cast on another person, so he was both curious and worried. Hermione might no longer be his friend, but he still cared about her. The thought that anyone might have done something like Tonks had suggested turned his stomach and left him burning with rage. He swore to himself that if anyone _had_ done anything to Hermione, Harry would find them and make them pay.

As it turned out, there was surprisingly little to see when someone was having their mind read. Hermione’s eyes had closed while Tonks muttered to herself, waving her wand in small circles. That was it. Harry was half expecting Tonks to go flying when Hermione threw her out, but it didn’t happen. Ten long minutes passed, at the end of which Tonks simply stopped chanting and Hermione opened her eyes, looking a bit dazed.

“You’re all clear,” Tonks told her immediately. “No signs that you’ve ever been obliviated.”

A look of the most profound relief swept across Hermione’s face. She wiped away the tears of relief than sprang up in the corners of her eyes and smiled weakly. But the smile quickly faded, replaced with a look of profound mortification.

“ _Oh my God!_ ” Hermione exclaimed. “Did you see...?”

She stopped mid-sentence and both her hands slapped over her cheeks in horror.

“Don’t worry Hermione,” Tonks replied with a wink, “your secrets are safe with me.”

Without another word Hermione leapt up and bolted for the door. She was out and pounding down the stairs to Ginny’s room before Harry had even blinked. Tonks chuckled in amusement.

“What was that about?” Harry asked.

Tonks gave him a wry look, “Let’s just say that Hermione is in many ways a very typical teenage girl... with a very... active imagination... and leave it at that.”

\- § -

Harry was still feeling a bit raw about bursting into tears yesterday, and he wasn’t at all sure that Tonks would want to sleep with him anymore. What grown woman would want to be with a teenage cry baby? He even felt awkward about the idea of undressing in front of Tonks now, in case she reacted in a way that made her contempt clear. So he delayed and dawdled and tried to find any excuse to put off going to bed. To his enormous relief, Tonks didn’t seem to share his discomfort. She calmly changed into a very cute pink and white stripy pyjama top with matching (and very tiny) pyjama shorts, then climbed into his bed.

“Hurry up Harry,” she told him as she snuggled under his duvet, yawning widely.

On all previous occasions they’d slept together naked. Harry wasn’t sure what to make of her wearing pyjamas this time, so he was still none-the-wiser about whether Tonks still wanted to have sex with him. Still, sharing a bed with her was better than nothing. He scrambled into a set of pyjamas as quickly as he could and slid into bed bedside her. Tonks immediately snuggled up to his side and kissed him on the chest.

“Night Harry.”

“Night Tonks,” he replied, wrapping an arm around her.

She actually felt rather cuddly in her pyjamas, he decided. Like a super-cute teddy bear. He still preferred the feel of her naked body draped over his of course, but this wasn’t so bad.

Within minutes Tonks’ breathing deepened, indicating that she’d fallen asleep.

Harry lay awake for several hours, reflecting on how important Tonks had become to him, and musing that the painfully hard stiffy he was now unable to shake could be used as a truncheon if Death Eaters chose this moment to attack to Burrow...

\- § -

Harry woke just a short time later when Tonks stretched contentedly. Blinding beams of light streamed through a gap in the curtains and pierced his exhausted brain like needles. He threw an arm over his eyes and groaned.

“Mmmm, I slept like a baby,” Tonks crooned.

At least one of us did, Harry thought wearily.

“Come on, we’re late for breakfast!” she declared and leapt energetically from the bed like a gazelle; a sexy gazelle in cute jim-jams.

Harry sighed heavily, but at least his erection had finally waned. He dressed quickly before it figured out he was awake and made another unwelcome appearance.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny were almost finished eating when Harry and Tonks arrived in the kitchen. At the sight of the young Auror, Hermione went bright red and ducked her head low over her cereal, hiding her face behind a wall of bushy hair.

Tonks caught Harry’s eye and winked. She glanced around the table and when nobody was looking she tapped Harry’s ear with her wand. Abruptly everything he was hearing in that ear became much louder. He shot her a questioning look.

“ _Super-sensory charm_ ,” she whispered, and tapped her own ear to cast it on herself.

With a smirk she placed a second wand on the table and slid it towards Hermione.

“You left this on Harry’s bedside table again,” Tonks said innocently.

Ron immediately went bright red, pushed his empty plate away and stormed off up the stairs. Harry couldn’t remember the last time they’d actually exchanged two words with each other. Apparently they wouldn’t do so today either.

Ginny leaned in close and whispered angrily at Hermione. Without the Super-sensory Charm it would have been far too quiet to hear, but Harry could make out the words easily.

“ _I knew it!_ ” Ginny hissed. “ _You used the potion I asked you to buy on Harry didn’t you?_ ”

Hermione’s hand surreptitiously grabbed the wand without looking at Tonks and stuffed it into her robes, “ _No I poured it down the sink like I told you!_ ”

“ _A likely story,_ ” Ginny hissed back. “ _If you wanted Harry you could have just said, instead of warning me off last term and then sneaking upstairs last night for a midnight booty call!_ ”

“ _It was not a booty call!_ ” Hermione snapped vehemently. “ _I was talking to Tonks, if you must know... about a private matter._ ”

“ _Having trouble removing Harry’s jizz are you?_ ”

“ _Ginny!_ ” Hermione gasped in outrage. “ _I have not had sex with Harry! Or Ron! Or anyone else for that matter!_ ”

Ginny sounded unconvinced, “ _If you say so..._ ”

 _“I do say so! I’m saving myself for someone special..._ ”

Ginny snorted, “ _Definitely not Ron then._ ”

“ _Ron’s not so bad,_ ” Hermione responded, though even she didn’t sound too sure.

“ _Seriously?_ ” Ginny replied incredulously. “ _After the way he’s behaved this summer? Even Percy would be a better choice than Ron!_ ”

Hermione visibly shuddered, “ _Percy’s not my type..._ ”

“ _So what is your type? Men who drool over other women and treat you like crap?_ ”

“ _Ron’s just been a bit... distracted_ ,” Hermione insisted. “ _He’ll be fine once we get back to Hogwarts._ ”

“ _Now he won’t,_ ” Ginny disagreed firmly. “ _He’s a massive prat no matter where he is. What about Victor Krum then?_ ”

Hermione looked suddenly bashful, “ _What about him?_ ”

“ _It’s common knowledge that you snogged him in the gardens during the Yule Ball..._ ”

“ _I most certainly did not!_ ” Hermione replied indignantly. “ _We’re just friends._ ”

Ginny gave her a sceptical look but chose not to reply.

“ _Honestly!_ ” Hermione grumbled. “ _Why do people keep making things up about me?_ ”

That seemed to end the conversation and the room fell quiet for several minutes, punctuated only by the sounds of cutlery on crockery. Tonks cancelled the Super-Sensory Charms and Mrs Weasley left the room to do whatever she does after breakfast.

“That spell you gave me worked a treat Hermione,” Tonks stated abruptly, breaking the silence. “Really, it’s an absolute life saver. Anyway, we’re heading outside so I can teach Harry to apparate. I’ll teach you too if you like, by way of thanks?”

Hermione looked delighted and then suddenly crestfallen, “I’m not allowed to do magic.”

Tonks laughed, “Sure you are. Like I said, it’s up to the adults to police underage magic here. _I’m_ an adult and so is Harry. We give you permission to do magic, don’t we Harry?”

Harry shrugged, “Sure.”

Hermione’s mouth opened and closed several times as she struggled with conflicting emotions. She was obviously happy to be able to learn some new magic, but rather put out that she’d needed Harry’s permission.

Tonks turned to Ginny, “I don’t think Molly would be happy if we gave you permission to do magic, Ginny. Sorry! You’re welcome to watch though... and if you try to do it without my permission... well, I’ll probably be too busy to notice.”

Ginny smiled in understanding.

With that settled Tonks led them outside to a secluded clearing in the orchard. She conjured three circular hoops and placed them on the ground a couple of meters apart.

“Harry and Hermione will be offered Apparition Lessons at Hogwarts in the coming term,” Tonks noted. “It won’t be much use inside Hogwarts, but Harry has a habit of finding himself in trouble outside of school grounds, even in term time, so I think it would be a good idea for him to learn it early. The Ministry Apparition Instructor would teach you that the key to Apparition is the three D’s. Those stand for ‘Destination, Determination, and Deliberation’. The guy loves the sound of his own assonance. What he means is that you must first concentrate on where you want to go – in this case the interior of the next hoop. Second you must focus your determination on _occupying that space_ , letting your _yearning_ to _enter it_ flood from your mind into every particle of your body. That wording is _his_ , by the way, not mine. The dirty old bugger. Anyway, thirdly, he’d tell you to turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation to your desired destination.”

Harry frowned. That third step sounded like gibberish.

“Simple eh?” Tonks asked.

All three members of her audience looked at each other uncertainly.

“No of course not,” Tonks conceded, “because those instructions are dreadful. The first step is easy, the second is a little harder, but not much... and the third is damned near impossible because how the hell do you ‘feel your way into nothingness’, or ‘move through it’? As Harry already knows, only the worst sort of teacher tells you to do something by describing _what_ you need to achieve rather than _how_ to achieve it. Most of the teaching at Hogwarts is done like that, to be honest. It’s amazing we learn anything at all really! But we do, because we all have an instinct for magic so we just keep trying it over and over, and eventually we get it... most of the time. Some people never learn to Apparate though, just like some never learn the Patronus. I think it’s because they’re taught so badly.”

Harry glanced over at Hermione. He could tell she was bursting to disagree. The effort of holding back was making her look constipated.

Tonks was oblivious, “Today we’re going to do something different. The way they teach Apparition is, in my option, recklessly dangerous. The chances of someone getting splinched are really high. The way we’re going to do it, splinching should be impossible. First, let’s practice steps one and two.”

They spent ten minutes doing exactly that, with Tonks giving helpful hints on how to be more effective and ignore distractions.

“Okay, I think we’ve probably got that nailed. Now for the next step you’ll need to work with me, one at a time. Any volunteers?” Nobody moved. “Ginny, did I see your hand go up? Yes, I’m sure I did. Right, so Ginny will go first. I’m not teaching you of course Ginny; I’m just using you to demonstrate to the other two.”

Ginny grinned conspiratorially.

“Here’s how this is going to work,” Tonks continued. “You will hold on tight to my arm, and then run through steps one and two. When you get to step three, close your eyes and lift your leg as if you’re going to step from where you are to where you want to be. Don’t turn on the spot. That’s daft and just makes you fall over. God knows why he says that. Just step, as if from one place to the other, with all your body parts still attached. I will take over from there. I’ll side-along Apparate you to the hoop as slowly as I can, so you can feel what’s happening. Then we’ll do it again, but the second time, _you’ll_ try to make it happen. I’ll stay with you, and take over if you falter. Then we’ll do it again, and again, and again. Each time we do it, you’ll get more of a sense for how it should feel, and you’ll be able to control more of it yourself. Having your eyes closed will help you realise what’s going on. I’ll give you five goes each, and then move onto the next person. That’ll give you time to recover, and for the feeling to bed itself into your mind. Okay?”

All three of them nodded mutely. Apparition was a daunting skill, and Tonks’ explanation didn’t make it sound any simpler.

“I think that’s enough explanation. This is all about _feeling it_ , so let’s get going. Ginny, grab my arm. That’s it. Now run through steps one and two, then close your eyes and step forwards.”

Harry and Hermione watched as Ginny screwed up her face in concentration then closed her eyes and stepped... two meters forwards into the hoop. She staggered on landing, but Tonks kept her upright.

“You okay, Ginny? Take your time. When you’re ready, nod and we’ll start again.”

Ginny took a few deep breaths and nodded; a moment later they Apparated to the next hoop. This time Ginny landed better, and had the ghost of a smile on her face. She nodded almost immediately, concentrated, stepped... and Apparated again. This time, she landed perfectly and had a broad smile on her face. She nodded and they went again.

On the fifth landing she leapt into the air in excitement, “I was doing it, wasn’t I? I was doing some of it!”

Tonks grinned, “Yes you were. I think you’re about a quarter of the way there. Nice job, Ginny.”

Ginny threw her arms in the air, “Woohoo!”

Harry was delighted for her. And really enjoyed how firm and bouncy her breasts looked in that top right now. God, was he ever going to stop being so horny?

“Right, Ginny’s seen how it works,” Tonks declared. “Hermione can go next, I think, since Harry’s so distracted by Ginny’s boobs.”

Ginny glared at him in shock and dropped her arms. Harry snapped his eyes away guiltily, while Tonks laughed at him.

“Come on Hermione let’s show Romeo how it’s done.”

Five minutes later, Hermione was as excited as Ginny. “Oh that was wonderful! It was so easy to learn like that! I mean, I haven’t got it yet but I’m so close! You’re a wonderful teacher, Tonks!”

Tonks smiled, “Thanks. I’ve always thought I’d make a good teacher. I taught myself the Patronus in fourth year, and successfully taught it to a couple of the other students. Anyway, you’re more than half way there, I’d say. Impressive! Okay, Harry, you’re next. I hope you’re not going to let these girls show you up. That would be embarrassing! But you know... no pressure.”

Harry scowled.

He needn’t have worried. The many _Occlumency_ lessons he’d shared with Tonks had left them highly attuned to each other. When he lifted his leg to step, he could sense not just what it felt like to Apparate, but what she was doing to make it happen. By the fifth jump, he was pretty sure he’d done it all himself.

Tonks pulled a face, “Show off.”

Ginny took her turn again, and was just as excited at the end of it. Tonks said she was almost half way there. Hermione got to about three quarters. By Harry’s second round fourth jump Tonks said he basically had it, and suggested he try it without her. It was quite a lot harder without Tonks there nudging him in the right direction and providing a safety net, but Harry gave it his best shot. He fell over when he landed, but he _did it_ – he apparated and landed in the hoop, with all his limbs still attached!

Harry was elated. Hermione and Ginny clapped excitedly.

“Well done Harry,” Hermione effused. “You did it! That was brilliant!”

Harry was amazed to see that Hermione showed no sign of jealousy that he’d succeeded before she did. After that Tonks suggested that Harry practice on his own while she helped Ginny and Hermione. Within twenty minutes Hermione was apparating on her own too. Half an hour after that, so was Ginny. They were all a little ragged with the landings, but they were doing it! Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the girls so jubilant.

Tonks called a halt, “Okay, that’s enough for today. If you do too much you’ll get tired and make mistakes. Tomorrow we’ll try longer distances and then places you can’t actually see, where you’re working from memory...”

Ginny raised her hand, “What happens if you apparate to a place where someone is already standing?”

Tonks took on a pained expression, “Nothing good. Basically you’ll end up splinched together, and yes that’s as bad as it sounds. We’ll cover this tomorrow, but if you can’t see your destination then you have to be less specific about where you want to end up. Instead of visualising a specific point in space, you visualise a general locale – like a room or a field, rather than a specific place _within_ that room or field – and focus your intention on apparating to an unoccupied part of that general location. After tomorrow you should all have apparition pretty well nailed, but you should practice with someone watching over you for at least a week until you’re sure you’ve got it, okay?”

Tonks had barely finished speaking when Hermione cannoned into her and hugged her fiercely, “Thank you Tonks! You were amazing! That was... I can’t believe it! You taught us to Apparate in less than two hours!”

Tonks laughed, “It’s not quite as impressive as it sounds. The standard course is twelve weeks at one hour a week, so only twelve hours in total. Apparating is pretty easy really.”

As soon as Hermione let Tonks go, Ginny grabbed her, “Thank you for including me Tonks!” She had tears pooling in her eyes. “Nobody’s ever taught me anything... except Mum with her stupid cooking spells. I have six older brothers and they never taught me a thing. Not even how to fly a broom! I always had to teach myself. But now I can apparate!”

Tonks coughed, “Yes, well... Let’s keep that to ourselves shall we, since none of you have licences. Harry, you can take your test whenever we have an hour to visit the test centre. You two girls will have to wait until you’re seventeen.”

They were all laughing and joking around when they tumbled into the kitchen to find Mrs Weasley making lunch.

“And what have you lot been up to?”

All four of them said, “ _Nothing!_ ” at exactly the same time. They couldn’t have looked more suspicious if they tried.

Mrs Weasley gave them a dubious look, “Well at least you’re all friends again! Ah, Ginny, just who I needed. Give me a hand with these potatoes would you.”

Ginny rolled her eyes at the others and slouched over to help.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)


	25. The Cream Dress part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters are “bonus smut chapters” – they’re almost entirely smut and not actually essential to the story. I decided to add them while I work on a few issues with later chapters. Feel free to skip them if you’re not here for the smut.

Tonks suggested they nip up to their room to freshen-up before dinner.

To Harry’s surprise, she dodged behind her wardrobe door and emerged moments later wearing a cream-coloured short-sleeved A-line dress. It was made of material just about opaque enough to hide her skin below. _Just about._ It successfully _hinted_ at what lay beneath, without quite revealing it. The dress was tightly fitted to her upper body and flared out into a loose skirt ending at mid thigh. The high neckline gave it a conservative look despite the short skirt, while the A-line profile was reminiscent of a fifties retro style. It was perfectly accentuated by a green leather belt and matching high-heel court shoes.

Harry was in awe. Tonks looked spectacular – the dress showed off the wonderful curve of her breasts and her narrow waist, implying sexuality while still looking classy. Meanwhile, her bare legs looked truly amazing, especially her thighs... which definitely hinted at the wonders to be found underneath that skirt.

As Tonks checked herself in the mirror, she added the final touch – her hair and eyes turned green to match her belt and shoes. She looked very exotic, and absolutely stunning. Harry hadn’t told her this, but of all the things she wore, A-line dresses and summer dresses were the ones that made him the most horny. (Well, those and the ‘finishing school’ outfit, though he’d never admit to that.) His pulse raced at how sexy she looked and he had to resist the impulse to take her in his arms and ravish her here and now.

“Are you ready to head down Harry?” she asked brightly, turning to face him.

“Um,” Harry said uncertainly, “aren’t you forgetting something?”

Tonks frowned, “Like what?”

Harry pointed at the underwear she’d discarded on the floor, “Like a bra and knickers?”

The green-haired teen waved a hand dismissively, “Nah. What’s the point? They’ll only get in the way when we shag later.”

“Shag?” he squeaked, completely wrong-footed.

“Yes Harry,” she responded, favouring him with a hard look. “In case you haven’t noticed, it has been almost three days since you last shagged me. _Three days Harry!_ That’s a serious dereliction of duty, and I won’t stand for it. A woman has needs you know!”

Harry swallowed heavily. Several emotions assailed him at once. He was overjoyed that she still wanted to have sex with him, while at the same time incredibly nervous about it. He was also massively turned-on by the idea of her going out in public with no knickers on. He had no idea why, but it set his heart pounding.

“So you’re... you’re going to go downstairs and eat dinner with no underwear on?” he stuttered.

“Oh don’t be such a prude Harry!” Tonks chided him. “Women go without knickers all the time.”

“ _They do?_ ” he blurted in a rather high-pitched voice.

“Sure they do,” she insisted, taking his arm and leading him towards the door. “If knickers spoil the look of the dress, we just go without. I can pretty much guarantee that half the girls at the Triwizard Tournament Yule Ball a few years back weren’t wearing any knickers.”

Harry gawped at the image that conjured in his head – the Great Hall full of girls dancing in formal ball gowns... with no knickers on underneath. Did Hermione have any underwear on that night, he wondered? Had he spoken to her while she was _completely exposed_ under her dress?

“So knickers would spoil the look of this dress?” he wondered, looking down at the flared skirt sceptically.

“Actually yes,” Tonks insisted, “because the material shows up whatever is beneath it. I’d have to match my skin tone _exactly_ otherwise you’d be able to see my underwear. Anyway we’ll only be downstairs for an hour, so it hardly seems worth the effort. I’ll just avoid walking over any subway vents.”

“Huh?”

“It was a Marilyn Monroe reference Harry. I thought you grew up in a muggle household?”

“I did, but I wasn’t allowed to watch much TV...”

Tonks squeezed his arm in sympathy as they left the room, “Oh yeah, I forgot. Sorry. Well, as compensation I might demonstrate later... or maybe even do the Kelly LeBrock version...”

Her eyes twinkled, but Harry had no idea what she was talking about.

They were the last to arrive for dinner so they had to take the only two remaining seats – facing each other on either side of Mr Weasley. Tonks sat next to Ginny, who rolled her eyes at the sight of the designer dress. Harry sank into the seat next to Hermione. On the other side of her Ron had been staring open-mouthed at Fleur’s low-cut top when Harry entered the room, but his eyes followed Tonks from the moment he spotted her.

“Oof!” Ron gasped as Hermione elbowed him sharply in the kidney. “ _What was that for?_ ” he whined.

“Sorry,” she replied sarcastically. “Your face had gone slack. I thought you might be having a stroke.”

“She has _green hair!_ ” Ron hissed, “who _wouldn’t_ stare?”

“Maybe so,” Hermione spat back, “but I’m pretty confident there’s no hair on the body parts _you_ were looking at!”

Ron scowled and jabbed angrily at a pork chop, cramming the whole thing into his mouth in one go. At the sight of him chewing with his mouth open, Hermione turned away and faced more towards Harry. Unfortunately he was still flustered at the thought of Tonks sitting there with no knickers on and knocked his fork flying. It clattered onto the floor under the table, just beyond the reach of his outstretched foot.

Harry ducked under the table to retrieve it... and was greeted with a view straight up Tonks’ skirt to her exposed pussy.

That alone would have been enough to make him jump like he’d been electrocuted, but the muff he was looking at wasn’t Tonks’ usual one. She’d changed it to look like Hermione’s, complete with elaborately gorgeous labia and neatly trimmed brunette pubic hair. With a startled jolt, Harry smacked the back of his head on the underside of table.

A chorus of rattling plates and cutlery drew everyone’s attention to him as he reappeared rubbing the back of his skull. Harry’s cheeks flushed red hot, but nobody paid him much attention... except Tonks, who lifted an amused and knowing eyebrow at him. Harry blushed even harder. He glanced round the table again to find Hermione looking back and forth between him and Tonks with a suspicious expression on her face.

Harry tried to act nonchalant, but Hermione clearly wasn’t convinced. Very deliberately, she wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin and then ‘accidentally’ dropped the square of white linen on the floor. With a theatrical shrug, she ducked under the table to pick it up. Harry heard a sharp intake of breath and when Hermione reappeared her face had gone bright crimson. Tonks smirked and winked at her. Hermione’s face burned even brighter.

The rest of dinner was blissfully uneventful, though Harry struggled to swallow any of it thanks to a strangely arid mouth. Hermione seemed to be having issues too and soon fled up to her room. Fortunately, everyone else seemed completely unaware that anything was going on, for which Harry was enormously thankful. Nevertheless, he was unable to focus on anything except the fact that Tonks had no underwear on. Nor was he able to forget the delightful sight he’d glimpsed under the table. As a result, his napkin remained firmly deployed in his lap throughout the meal, hiding the chubby that was pressing insistently against the inside of his trousers.

Tonks seemed to be revelling in his discomfort. Her eyes twinkled as she placed a forkful of food in her mouth, closed her lips over it, and sucked seductively on her silverware as she slid it free. Harry choked on a potato and had to thump himself on the chest to free it. Tonks suppressed a giggle and favoured him with an entirely innocent look, which didn’t help him at all – it just made her look even more alluring. Harry once again felt the very strong desire to rip her clothes off and shag her right here.

Somehow he managed to make it through the meal without doing that, and when Tonks rose to deposit her plate in the self-washing sink Harry slid from his chair and tucked in behind her, hiding his woody from everyone else by sticking close to her.

“Goodnight everyone,” Harry declared with an ostentatious yawn. “Need an early night I think.”

For a moment it looked like Tonks might say something to embarrass him, but she relented after Harry gave her a hard glare.

“Yes goodnight everyone,” she agreed instead.

They proceeded up the stairs in silence until they were out of earshot.

“Sneaky move dropping your fork Harry”, Tonks said with amusement in her voice.

“That was a genuine accident!” Harry insisted.

“Sure it was, you perv.”

Harry scowled.

“I think Hermione got more than she was bargaining for though,” Tonks continued merrily. “She probably thought you’d seen a flash of my knickers, but that girl just can’t resist investigating a mystery. I wonder if she recognised her own topiary...”

“Topiary?” Harry asked without thinking.

“Yes topiary – the ancient and noble art of trimming bush.”

With a mental face-palm at walking into that one, Harry asked a follow-up question.

“Why did you use Hermione’s... um, _features_ anyway?”

Tonks chuckled, “To get a rise out of you of course.” She glanced over her shoulder at Harry’s distorted trousers. “Looks like I succeeded.”

Harry slid his hands into his pockets to disguise the bulge, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Tonks locked and silenced their bedroom door as Harry slumped down onto his bed. He was hellishly horny, but he still felt self-conscious about weeping so pathetically the other night. His brain was suddenly devoid of any inspiration about how to initiate sex with Tonks, and an irrational fear gripped him that he’d somehow disappoint her and confirm what he was certain she was thinking – that he was just a boy, not a man.

While Harry was stewing in self-doubt, Tonks began riffling through the cupboards and bedside drawers.

“Ah, here it is!” she cried in triumph, emerging with a small wooden radio.

Wizarding wirelesses look very different to muggle radios. This one had a circular base upon which sat a single very large and dusty light-bulb. One side of the bulb was adorned with a wooden arch, along with a small white frequency scale and two circular dials. The left dial clicked as Tonks rotated it and the radio burst into life. She adjusted the knob until the hissing static was at a comfortable volume, and then began turning the other dial. After several seconds the white noise gave way to crackling music. With careful adjustment, Tonks was able to get a nice clear signal and the light bulb lit up with a warm yellow glow. Harry wasn’t familiar with the music that was playing, but it sounded like a Weird Sisters song.

“In the fifties, Marilyn Monroe starred a movie called the ‘Seven Year Itch’,” Tonks explained, taking up position in the middle of the room. “She stood on a vent and the draft from a subway train below made her skirt fly up. All the audience got to see was a bit of thigh, but it caused quite a sensation. Thirty years later an actress called Kelly LeBrock did something similar, but much racier, in a movie called ‘The Woman in Red’. She was wearing a scarlet dress and actually danced on the vent, revealing her scarlet bikini-style panties. It went something like this...”

To Harry’s amazement, Tonks began dancing to the song that was playing on the radio, rotating slowly on the spot while gyrating her hips around in sensual circles. The skirt of her dress flowed around her, whipping left and right, giving him occasional glimpses of her upper thighs. But then she swished her wand and suddenly her skirt started flying up as if a strong breeze was flowing up from the floor. Tonks continued dancing, using her hands to prevent her skirt flying up too high. Nevertheless, Harry was treated to a fabulous flash of naked hip, and then a brief glimpse at one butt cheek. His erection hardened into a painfully firm steely rod.

On and on she danced, fighting to keep her wayward skirt down and repaying his eagle-eyed scrutiny with all-too infrequent peeks at her bare flesh – an inner thigh, the beautiful valley between her hip and her mound, her bum crack...

Harry’s breathless vigilance was eventually rewarded when the skirt escaped her control and flew up to expose her pussy. Harry’s cock throbbed hungrily, especially when he realised it was her own smooth and hairless muff he was seeing, not Hermione’s.

Much as he enjoyed seeing Hermione’s pussy, it was Tonks he wanted to shag right now.

The music came to an end and so did Tonks’ dance. She cancelled the spell on her dress and clicked the radio off. With a grin, she pinched the sides of her skirt and bobbed a quick curtsey. Harry had never seen anything so cute in his entire life... or anything so sexy.

With a mischievous grin, Tonks batted her eyelashes at him.

Harry had no conscious memory of how he got there, but he was suddenly standing in front of her.

“Did you see anything you like Harry?” the beautiful green-haired woman asked innocently.

That was the last straw. _He had to have her._ He had to have her _right now_. All his earlier doubts and insecurities were washed away in the tsunami of his desire. The only thought his mind could grasp onto was how much he wanted her. Tonks yelped in surprise as his arms suddenly encircled her waist and his lips crashed into hers.

Oh God he’d missed this! Her lips felt warm and welcoming, and her slim feminine curves pressed delightfully against his masculine frame. The connection to her mind flared instantly to life, plunging him into the swirling maelstrom of her emotions.

Intense sexual desire and profound relief flowed into his mind from hers, along with deep regret that she’d upset him. She really _didn’t_ care that he’d lied to her, he discovered, and she wished she’d never mentioned it. His terror at the thought of losing her had taken her completely by surprise, but in retrospect she felt she should have anticipated it. Everyone he cared about had left him, so of course he was sensitive about it! Tonks was so furious with herself – she’d almost ruined the best thing that ever happened to her by raising an issue she didn’t even care about! Even worse, Harry had fallen into a depressive and self-destructive funk because of it. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t shagged her for days! After the amazing orgasms she’d been having, suddenly going cold-turkey had sent her mad with lust. She’d become so horny that she’d been giving serious thought to humping a pillow while Harry was asleep.

Harry’s heart almost burst at the revelation that she thought he was the best thing that ever happened to her. He felt the same way! But even _that_ thought fled his mind as Tonks wrapped her arms around his neck and began snogging him hungrily. As usual Harry could hardly believe this was happening. He had no illusions about it – Tonks was _way_ out of his league. She was amazing in every possible way, while he was nothing special. But for some unfathomable reason she liked him, and even _he_ wasn’t stupid enough to miss the chance to be with someone as incredible as Tonks.

Harry’s desire grew as he ran his hands up her back. Tonks groaned and lifted a leg, wrapping it around his waist and grinding her crotch into his hip. Harry’s hands took on a life of their own, grabbing her bum and squeezing her butt cheeks through the dress. A low moan emerged from their joined mouths as they both growled in pleasure.

Using her elbows on his shoulders as leverage, Tonks leapt up and clamped both legs around his waist. Fortunately Harry’s hands were already on her arse, so he was easily able to support her weight while she devoured his mouth with hers. She was as hungry for him as he was for her, it seemed, and Harry was more than happy to let her lead the way. Tonks was an amazing kisser, and there were few things more wonderful than being kissed by a jaw-droppingly beautiful woman.

Except perhaps being kissed by a jaw-droppingly beautiful woman while groping her _bare bum_.

With that in mind, Harry removed one hand from her dress-covered butt, quickly slid it under her skirt, and grabbed her bare arse. Tonks squealed and thrust her tongue roughly into his mouth. Harry repeated the manoeuvre with his other hand, until her entire weight was being supported by his hands on her naked backside.

Harry was well aware that he should be following the ‘HOST’ system (use his hand first, then give her oral, then sex, and then use toys... though he still didn’t know what those were) but he couldn’t. He was consumed by the need to be _inside her_. So he fumbled desperately with the fly of his trousers in a desperate attempt to free his throbbing cock, while trying to hold her up with one hand. Annoyingly, he just couldn’t get the damned zip undone. In frustration, he yanked his belt lose and tore his trousers open, popping the button off and mangling the zip. His trousers fell to the floor around his ankles. A few firm tugs on his boxers soon sent them the same way, freeing his steely shaft from its cotton prison.

Without hesitation, Harry lifted Tonks up a few inches and then lowered her towards his waiting penis. He couldn’t see anything of course – she was still wearing her dress so the skirt obscured his view – but he knew she wasn’t wearing any panties, so her exposed pussy was there for the taking.

Almost immediately, the tip of Harry’s cock touched something slick and warm. Sweet Merlin, he’d found it on the first try! Harry sensed the helmet of his penis push her moist labia apart. It felt incredible to him, and even more amazing to Tonks – an explosion of relieved anticipation flowed into his mind from hers.

The pink valley at the centre of Tonks’ pussy began guiding his penis towards her vagina entrance. She was so wet that his dick slid straight inside her and plunged five inches deep before he’d even realised what had happened. Her head flew back and she gasped in delight.

“Ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Harry went completely cross-eyed as the glorious softness of her insides sent waves of pleasure through him. For several seconds he simply revelled in the fact that he was inside her, enjoying the warm embrace of her vagina. But he knew he could go deeper, and he desperately needed to do that. So he relaxed his arms and allowed her bodyweight to press her down onto his dick. They both cried out at the same time, overwhelmed by the feel of his rock hard erection driving as far as it could go into her sopping-wet pussy. Only the firm collision of their pelvises brought his plunging penis to a stop.

For a while they both just held each other, rejoicing in the feel of each other’s bodies.

Tonks lowered her head to stare at him in wonder. Then, without a word, she rotated her hips to pull her pelvis back slightly. Harry’s dick slid a few inches out of her. With a delighted sigh, Tonks drove her pelvis forward again, taking him all the way back inside. Her eyes closed and she groaned in blissful contentment.

“Oh thank _fuck_!” she moaned. “I’ve missed your cock Harry. I’ve missed it _a lot_.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he whispered, “and you looked so amazing tonight that I just had to have you.”

The stunning green-haired woman giggled, “I thought you might like this dress, that’s why I wore it.”

Had she planned this whole thing, Harry wondered? Had she chosen a sexy dress that she knew he’d like, and deliberately not worn underwear to get him horny?

His attempt to say so was thwarted by another rotation of her hips. A few inches of his penis slid free of her wonderfully moist vagina and then plunged straight back inside her. His eyes rolled back in his head and his words became an incoherent gurgle in his throat. Before he’d even recovered she did it again, and again. Harry’s desire to devour her body became a ravenous hunger.

The next time she pulled her hips back Harry did the same. His dick slid out much further, and when she thrust forwards again only half of it slid home. Harry paused for half a second. Just long enough for her disappointment and irritation to reach him through their connection, and then he thrust fully back inside her. Tonks cried out in elation, confirming his suspicion that she was turned on by an element of the unexpected. Tonks began thrusting her hips back and forth with renewed vigour, her ardour tinged with a hint of desperation. She was massively aroused and extremely keen to have an orgasm, he sensed.

Harry allowed her to dictate the pace for a while, grinding her crotch onto his with increasing delight. For his part, Harry absolutely _loved_ the idea of Tonks pounding away on his cock with her legs wrapped around his waist, while he supported her weight with his hands on her naked arse. It was a massive turn-on _mentally_ and _emotionally_ , but he found this position – having sex standing up – surprisingly un-stimulating _physically_. Is that what the word ‘erotic’ meant, he wondered?

If so, he found it particularly _erotic_ that she was still wearing her dress while they shagged. Not for the first time, Harry was left with the impression that his sexual tastes were a bit deviant, but he consoled himself with the observation that Tonks seemed to love it too. That alone made this position a winner, but the fact that he wasn’t being pushed towards an orgasm allowed him to really appreciate the experience, without being swept away by his own climax.

With that in mind, Harry focussed on the connection between them to assess what Tonks was feeling. As he’d suspected, her arousal was blossoming rapidly towards what would be a pretty decent orgasm. But Harry saw no reason to settle for ‘pretty decent’ when a few minor adjustments would make it utterly mind-blowing.

Her bum was a significant erogenous zone for her, according to the fantasy images flashing through her head. Having his hands all over her naked arse while she was wearing a dress with no knickers on... and being fucked by him standing up... was all a massive turn-on for her. But she wanted more. So he started squeezing her arse with his fingers, ‘kneading’ her butt cheeks. Tonks went absolutely wild.

“Fuck yes!” she cried in frenzied glee as she rode his cock even harder. “Fuck yes! Fuck yes! Fuck yes!”

Harry grinned to himself. He wasn’t the only deviant, it seemed.

Next he began pulling his hips back at just the right moment to heighten her pleasure, and then thrust them forwards again when her frustration and longing had reached a peak. It was all carefully judged so that each time he did it her arousal leapt higher, increasing the strength of her forthcoming climax, but without bringing it significantly closer.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, “Oh my God, oh my God.”

That was pretty much all he needed to do. She’d already been horny after three days without sex, and sitting through a meal with no knickers on had made her massively randy. Having Harry look up her skirt had given her a thrill, but Hermione looking up there had been a very guilty pleasure. Tonks had been dripping wet by the time they got back to the bedroom, and Harry lowering her onto his cock while standing up had almost tipped her over the edge.

Should he be jealous that Tonks was turned on by Hermione seeing her pussy, he wondered? Strangely, he wasn’t jealous at all. In fact, he found it oddly arousing. He had no idea why, because he certainly didn’t want Tonks to leave him for Hermione. Had Hermione been turned on by it, he wondered? She’d gone very red, so maybe she had. The idea rather excited him.

Harry shook those thoughts from his head. He had more important things to attend to.

Tonks’ orgasm was speeding towards her now, he sensed. It was inevitable and unavoidable, but Harry had a few more tricks up his sleeve. As her climax began to gather he made tiny adjustments to the angle of his hips. Tonks would probably be unaware of them, they were so small, but each one was designed to delay her impending release just a little bit.

Tonks began panting in blissful rapture, crying out in desperation, “I’m so close! I’m so close! Fuck me Harry! Fuck me!”

This was definitely one of his favourite positions, Harry decided. Not only was Tonks doing all the work, but she though _he_ was doing all the work! His tiny changes in hip position were having such a massive effect on her that she thought he was pounding into her like a jack hammer. In addition, he got to enjoy the incredible sensation of her soft insides stroking his shaft without an orgasm cutting his pleasure short.

Tonks hovered on the cusp of her climax, and Harry kept her there as she became increasingly desperate.

“Oh please! Oh please! Oh please!” she begged, “Make me cum Harry! Make me cum!”

Harry pushed her to the very edge of her climax.

“Oh God Harry! I’m coming! I’m coming! I’m coming!”

Finally, he amended his hip thrusts so he wouldn’t just tip her over the edge, but accelerate her towards a sudden and truly _spectacular_ climax. Her response was immediate. Her arms squeezed tight around his neck and she frantically rammed up and down on his dick as fast as she could.

“Fuck yes! Fuck yes! Fuck yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yesyesyesyesyesyes... yes... YES... Y...”

Her orgasm erupted like a volcano, throwing her head flew back as she screamed in ecstasy.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

She wanted to keep pounding on his steely shaft but she’d lost control of her legs – they’d clamped around Harry’s waist and refused to obey any further instructions. So Harry pulled back his hips and began pumping them back and forth, ramming into her repeatedly, in time with her screaming. Her orgasm exploded for a second time, making her gasp in shock.

“ _HOLY FUCK!_ Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh!”

Over and over she came, her pussy contracting in violent spasms around his plunging cock, as if she were trying to imprison it within her body. But she was far too aroused for that – his dick was coated in her juices and her insides were sopping. There was no way she could stop his penis, even if she wanted to.

For almost sixty seconds she was wracked with savage orgasmic convulsions, yelling out his name.

“Oh Harry! Oh Harry! Oh Harry! Oh Harry! Oh Harry! Oh Harry! Oh Harry!”

Finally her climax began to wane. Her arms went limp around his neck and her head fell forwards onto his shoulder.

“ _Fucking hell..._ ” she gasped breathlessly into his chest. “ _Fucking hell..._ ”

Her legs gradually relaxed around his waist and her entire body shuddered. For two whole minutes she trembled pitifully, wracked with aftershocks and clinging to Harry’s neck while his strong hands supported her by her bare arse.

Harry held her silently, not wanting to disturb her post-coital bliss. All those hours of gripping and steering a broom during Quidditch practice with Oliver Wood hadn’t been wasted after all, Harry mused – he’d used the same muscles just now to grip a beautiful woman’s bum as she rode up and down on his wood. Harry was sure there was as better joke in there somewhere, but that’s the best he could come up with on the spur of the moment.

Unfortunately Harry’s legs were starting to wobble with fatigue. He held on as long as he could, but eventually he had to sit down or risk collapse. He shuffled awkwardly towards the bed, shaking his shoes, trousers and boxers off his feet as he went, and sank gratefully onto the edge of the mattress with Tonks still skewered on his dick. She didn’t notice him moving until her knees came into contact with the covers.

She lifted her head in surprise and then winced, “Ouch! Ouch! Cramp! I’ve got cramp in my leg! Lift up!”

Harry half stood, allowing Tonks to straighten her legs out behind him, and then sat down again.

She sighed heavily, rubbing her legs vigorously behind his back, “That’s better! Thanks Harry.”

Harry’s legs were burning too, but his attention wasn’t on his legs. It was on the fact that Tonks was now _literally_ sitting on his cock.

She looked down at him and grinned, “Mmm... this feels nice.”

It wasn’t quite so nice for Harry though – his dick was currently angled a little too low for comfort – so he shuffled forwards while pulling Tonks’ hips towards him until their pelvic bones met and his shaft slid straight up into her. It felt absolutely divine, and with gravity pressing her entire weight down onto his cock, he was driven further inside her than he’d ever been before.

Tonks inhaled sharply and fell forwards, “ _Oh my God!_ ”

“Are you okay?” he asked in concern.

“Yes... yes I’m fine,” she replied into his chest, sounding strained. “It’s just... you’re just _so deep!_ ”

“Is it uncomfortable?” he wondered.

“No it’s nice,” she reassured him, rolling her hips a little and closing her eyes. “But don’t go any deeper or you’ll hit my tonsils.”

To his surprise, Harry could feel her excitement rapidly rising again through their connection. Despite having just had a very powerful orgasm, she was still massively aroused and keen for another. Harry was more than happy to make the attempt, since he hadn’t had one himself yet.

“Unzip me Harry,” Tonks whispered.

Obediently, Harry reached up and slid the zip on her dress all the way down to the small of her back. Tonks shrugged her way out of each arm, loosened the belt, and then yanked the entire dress off over her head. She threw it across the room to land on a chair, leaving herself completely naked apart from her high heel shoes. For some reason Harry found that a huge turn-on.

Without a word, Tonks grabbed his sweatshirt, lifted it off over his head, and dropped it on the floor. Harry was now completely naked too (except for his socks, but he certainly wasn’t going to interrupt proceedings to remove them).

“That’s better,” the green-haired teen crooned.

Enclosing Harry’s face in her hands, she leaned forwards and kissed him firmly on the lips.

“Now it’s your turn,” she whispered, and began rotating her hips.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to re-enable comments. If I get trolled I'll disable them again.
> 
> The next chapter ("The Cream Dress part II") will be posted in a day or two...


	26. The Cream Dress part II

Harry’s still-rock-hard penis began circling around inside Tonks’ vagina, like a wand stirring a cauldron – a very stiff thick wand and a very sexy cauldron. It felt absolutely _incredible_ and Harry groaned out loud.

The experience was further enhanced by the fact that her amazingly perky boobs were jiggling right in front of his face, and his hands were still gripping her fabulous backside. Most surprising of all though, was the discovery that once again there was very little physical stimulation. For reasons Harry couldn’t comprehend at all, his dick was being massaged wonderfully by her insides, but it wasn’t driving him towards an orgasm. This was particularly remarkable given how far he was up inside her. Nevertheless, Harry found himself once again able to enjoy the perfection of her body without the distraction of an impending climax.

With a deep sigh of contentment Harry slumped backwards to lie down flat on the bed.

Tonks squealed.

Harry scrambled back up to a sitting position, “ _Sorry, did I hurt you?_ ”

“No, no it’s fine,” Tonks reassured him a little breathlessly. “It was just... for some reason your cock goes really deep when you lie down.”

Resolving to remain sitting up for now, Harry immediately availed himself of the opportunity to cup both of her fabulous breasts in his hands. Tonks gasped out loud, closing her eyes and tipping her head back in rapture. To Harry’s delight, her hips resumed their slow rotation, massaging his cock with her amazing insides... or possibly massaging her insides with his amazing cock – they both seemed to be loving it just as much as the other.

He did have one advantage over her though – her hands were on his shoulders, but his were on her breasts... and they felt incredible! The skin of her boobs was indescribably soft, the size and weight of them felt absolutely perfect on his palms, and they squished sublimely at the slightest pressure. Looking at her naked tits always took his breath away, but they were even more amazing from this angle. Watching them twist and turn as she rode his cock was a sight he would treasure forever, and _touching_ them was pure heaven.

Harry ran his eyes over the rest of her body, admiring every gorgeous millimetre of exposed flesh. His gaze finally settled on her writhing hips, and the beautiful pussy at their centre. As she rotated her pelvis in slow circles, Harry was rewarded with tantalising glimpses of his cock buried deep inside her. He could see that her puffy and inflamed labia were stretched wide around his shaft, and at the junction of her lips, the fleshy hood had pulled back to expose her tiny pink clitoris. Each time she circled her pelvis that seemingly unremarkable little dome brushed against the base of his dick and sent bursts of hungry desire radiating out into her body.

Tonks’ breathing became more laboured. She was trying to bring him to orgasm, but she was so aroused from her own climax a few minutes ago that she was inadvertently turning herself on even more. Harry was quite happy with that – he was in no rush to cum himself, and was enjoying her naked wriggling enormously. It was also a rare treat to be able to fondle her tits while they had sex. Normally her boobs were crushed against his chest, so he couldn’t get his hands on them. Harry decided he liked this position a lot – it might not bring him to climax, but he got to really enjoy her body, which was more than sufficient compensation.

As before, Harry made tiny adjustments to his hips to enhance and delay her climax. Her excitement built rapidly, and she quickly forgot that she was meant to be pleasuring him, not the other way round. When the time was right, he switched from caressing her boobs to kneading them gently. Tonks went wild, as he’d know she would – her chest was another erogenous zone and she loved it when he played with her tits. Her excitement took a huge leap and she started bouncing up and down on his cock, using the bedsprings like a sex trampoline and digging her high-heels into the mattress for purchase.

Harry had become a spectator once more – a willing sex toy for Tonks to pleasure herself with – but he was far from complaining. If a breathtakingly beautiful woman wanted to repeatedly impale herself on his knob... who was he to object? In fact it would be quite rude to say no, he decided, and Harry liked to think he had better manners than that.

Tonks’ breaths shortened until she was panting with each bounce, “Hee! Hee! Hee! Hee! Hee!”

Through their connection Harry could feel the euphoria flowing through her. She’d lost all perception of the room around them. Only Harry’s dick and the wonderful way it was making her feel managed to penetrate the rapturous fog of pleasure clouding her mind.

Harry decided that his release could wait. It was much more important to him that Tonks enjoyed herself. In fact he wanted her to enjoy it _so much_ that she kept coming back for more. It was a crude plan, but what else did an unremarkable teenage boy have to offer a grown woman like Tonks? He was desperate, so he had to take full advantage of the meagre resources available to him. And yes, he admitted to himself, using the connection between them to enhance her orgasms was cheating, but what choice did he have? He _couldn’t_ lose Tonks, he just couldn’t, and if giving her earth-shattering orgasms was the way to keep her around... then that’s what he would do.

There was another reason too, he rationalised – Tonks _deserved it_. She was such an amazing person that she _deserved_ to have amazing orgasms. It was only fair. In fact, the more Harry thought about it, the more he realised that it would be horribly _unfair_ if he _didn’t_ use their connection to give her the best orgasms possible. Why would he deprive her of that? What sort of person would he be if he had that ability and simply _didn’t bother_? Not a person worthy of her, that’s for sure.

So really he had no choice in the matter, he concluded – none at all.

Satisfied that he was doing the right thing, Harry refocused on Tonks’ pending climax. Her excitement was building relentlessly, and thanks to his constant adjustments she was building towards an even more powerful orgasm than the last one. But there were still a few things he could do to augment her experience.

First, he leaned a little further back. It was just a few millimetres, but the effect on Tonks was profound. To Harry it felt like his cock was just a little further inside her, but to Tonks it felt like his dick had grown substantially in length and girth. Her arousal leapt significantly, and she rode him even harder, crying out exuberantly.

“Oh Harry! It’s so big! Oh my God! Oh my God!”

For the next several minutes Harry steadily increased the angle of his recline, just a few millimetres at a time, to amplify the arousal blossoming inside her pelvis. Each time he did, Tonks was driven to increasing heights of frenzied glee, as if he’d miraculously grown a new and improved cock. The timing was critical of course – if we went too fast it would become uncomfortable, which would be a turn-off. So Harry kept a close eye on the images in her head and the feelings washing over her. Ordinarily (like earlier) she wouldn’t be able to take as much cock as he was shoving up her right now without adjusting her vagina to a larger size. But in her current state of increasingly extreme arousal her insides were so lubricated and flexible that she could not only accommodate more, but she _wanted_ more. When Harry felt her starting to imagine him with an even bigger cock he leant backwards a little and gave it to her.

Tonks was in paradise, and would soon enjoy a truly amazing climax, but Harry knew he could do better. She was massively turned on, and her pelvic region was ablaze with pre-orgasmic tingling, but she needed a little something extra – a little something to make it _really_ special.

Harry knew exactly what he needed to do. Her mind was awash with images of what she wanted.

It was such a little thing that it seemed unlikely to have much of an effect, but she was undeniably _desperate_ for him to do it. Her body was crying out for it. And so, at the precise moment that her pleasure hit a plateau, Harry did what she wanted.

He ran his thumbs over her nipples.

Tonks went absolutely insane, “Oh FUCK! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!”

Her bouncing became frenzied, screaming his name with each bump, “Harry! Harry! Harry! Harry! Harry!”

But Harry wasn’t done. She’d been riding him for quite a while now and might start losing sensitivity below the waist. He would need to move fast before her pleasure started to wane, so he began caressing her nipples with his thumbs. In seconds her previously smooth areolas had tightened into rippled circles, and her nipples had hardened into firm buds.

Tonks’ head flew back, “Oh GOD! Oh GOD! Oh GOD!”

A crescendo of bliss was building below her waist, and Harry’s gentle touch on her nipples was setting fireworks off in her head. She would reach a peak soon, he knew, but he had two more tricks to play. Timing would be everything, and he would need to get the pressure _just right_ , but the picture in her head was very clear – his thumbs were driving her mad and she now had a new desire burgeoning within her.

“YES! YES! YES!” she cried in jubilation, realising she’d passed the point of no return – her orgasm was inevitable and unavoidable now.

Harry dialled down the connection as her climax rushed towards her, biding his time until the exact moment when his next move would have the maximum effect.

“OHGODOHGODOHGOD!”

Almost there, he thought to himself. She’d be ready soon. In fact she would be ready... right... about...

“OHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOHGODOH...”

_Now!_

With just the right amount of pressure, Harry pinched Tonks’ nipples.

An explosion of ecstasy erupted from her breasts, flooding her mind and overwhelming her completely. Barely half a second later her descending hips stroked her labia down Harry’s well-lubricated cock and her clitoris erupted in orgasm.

That’s when Harry played his final card – he slumped back to lie completely flat on the bed, driving his cock straight up inside her. To him, it felt like his dick plunged about an inch deeper, and perhaps pressed against the front surface of her vagina somewhat. To Tonks, it felt like his dick had suddenly doubled in size. The tip pressed on her internal organs in an uncomfortable and at the same time _fabulously wonderful_ way, while his helmet brushed across something else deep inside her – something she hadn’t even known was there: _her G-spot_.

A burst of images, thoughts and emotions flooded Harry’s mind, showing him everything she knew about g-spots. Tonks had heard women talk about g-spots, but she never really believed they existed. The whole thing sounded suspiciously bogus – like something someone would invent to make it sound like they had better sex than everyone else. Tonks certainly hadn’t sensed anything special inside her own vagina. But Harry’s penis had _definitely_ touched _something_ special. A single caress of his knob across that fabled spot had made her senses go completely haywire.

All further images were swept away as her entire pelvis erupted in orgasm. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. A dam burst within her and she lost herself in the violent torrent of pleasure that gushed forth.

Harry winced as a deafening squeal erupted from her throat right by his ear, “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

And then her entire body curled in on itself, constricting in one giant convulsion. Her thighs clasped tight around Harry’s waist and her fingernails raked across his back. It was as if every muscle in her body had clenched at once, including her vagina which made a valiant attempt to crush his penis to a pulp. Fortunately for him, his cock was currently made of hardened steel, so he enjoyed it immensely.

The pressure from Tonks abated slightly, and then another convulsion wracked her.

She screamed in blissful agony, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Harry continued to pinch her nipples and knead her breasts while she thrashed about in his lap, her body contorting in rapturous anguish.

Another spasm gripped her, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!”

The helpless woman’s pussy contracted around Harry’s cock once more, squeezing his shaft for all it was worth. The strength of her vagina muscles astounded him yet again. He was fairly certain that her hand wouldn’t be able to grip him as tight as her snatch currently was. But he wasn’t complaining – for the first time since they started having sex tonight, Harry felt the early twinges of an orgasm starting to build.

A fourth paroxysm seized the helpless woman, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Her vagina’s vice-like grip encircled his buried member afresh, and the tingling feeling started to spread.

Harry’s attention was drawn anew to how jaw-droppingly gorgeous the woman orgasming in his lap actually was. She had exactly the figure he found most alluring – slim and toned limbs with a narrow waist, small round bum, hips to die for, and firm perfectly shaped boobs that were just a little larger than you’d expect for someone with her frame. And of course there was her face... which was breathtakingly pretty.

But it was her personality that made her truly beautiful, Harry knew. That’s what really mattered. If Tonks were the plainest girl in the world it wouldn’t change how he felt about her. Nor would it change how much he wanted to have sex with her, because it was how sex made her _feel_ that mattered to him, not what she looked like. It was about making Tonks happy.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!” she yelled again.

The tingling in his pelvic region was definitely spreading. Harry suddenly felt a powerful urge to start pumping hips, but he resisted. Tonks was having a fabulous orgasm already. Moving his cock around would just be a distraction at this point.

To his delight, Tonks’ head fell back, revealing an expression of deep shock on her lovely face. Her mouth hung open in a wide ‘O’ of surprise as her green eyes met his and a heavy frown creased her forehead.

Harry had barely noticed that her eyes were green earlier, but now it was very obvious. They weren’t the emerald green of his own eyes, but a darker mossy green to match the high-heel shoes she was still wearing.

Tonks’ eyes rolled back in her head as another powerful contraction shook her, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Harry’s resolve crumbled. Tonks’ orgasmic contractions were driving him mad with lust and the look of bliss on her face was making him super-horny. His dick began to hum with pre-orgasm tingles, and his higher brain functions started shutting down. With sudden ferocity he shot up off the bed, lifting Tonks into the air. She yelped in shock and clamped her limbs around him. Harry turned around and dove back towards the bed, landing on top of Tonks with his cock still buried inside her.

“ _YES!_ ” she cried breathlessly. “ _Fuck me Harry! FUCK ME!_ ”

Harry barely heard her. His climax was dashing towards him, as unstoppable as a freight train, and his primal instincts had taken over. Of their own volition his hips pulled back, until the head of his cock was toying at the entrance of her vagina, and then they thrust it all the way back inside her. Tonks shrieked in pleasure. Again he pulled out and again he rammed his dick home. Tonks howled, raking her nails down his back.

Any further conscious thought deserted him. He began pumping the entire length of his dick into her warm and welcoming pussy as hard and as fast as he possibly could. Rapture engulfed him like a raging storm. Tingling spread from his mid section throughout his entire body, and elation filled him. But it wasn’t elation at his forthcoming orgasm. It was elation that he was _having sex with Tonks_. Yes, she had her arms and legs wrapped around him and he was plunging his cock into her over and over, but those were not merely sexual acts – they were acts of _joining_. Harry and Tonks weren’t just two people having sex; they were two lonely souls coming together as one.

Unexpectedly, Tonks exploded in orgasm beneath him, “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

Harry watched her fight to keep her eyes fixed on his, but her convulsions were just too powerful. Her head fell back and her eyes squeezed shut as she screamed at the ceiling each time he rammed into her.

“Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh!”

Barely aware of the contractions of her vagina around his rigid shaft now, Harry kept on going, hammering his cock home repeatedly. Looking down, he could actually _see_ his dick plunging into Tonks’ pussy, pushing aside her labia and stretching her entrance muscles. The sight took his breath away. But then as he pulled back, a river of pussy juice flowed out of her, coating his shaft and spilling onto the bed. For some reason, that image filled him with a profound affection for the woman lying beneath him, but he had no time to dwell on why. His eyes travelled up her body, taking in the beauty of her thighs, her wonderfully toned abs, her amazing breasts, and her impossibly pretty face...

He’d never seen anything so wonderful in his whole life, and that tipped him over the edge. His cock exploded in orgasm and he grunted in savage ecstasy.

“Hhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh!”

A massive blast of cum erupted forth, spraying her insides like a fire hose. At the same time, through their connection, Harry felt what Tonks felt – a sudden warmth blossomed inside her as his spunk plastered the dome of her cervix. She cried out as a deeper and more primal orgasm ripped through her.

“Uuuuuuurrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!”

Harry kept on thrusting and ejaculated a second time, squirting another deluge of hot spunk into her waiting body. Tonks felt his shaft stretching the muscles around her entrance, and a further flood of warmth spread inside her, forcing her vagina to convulse in response.

“Uuuuuuurrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!”

Over and over Harry came, injecting spurt after spurt of hot jism into Tonks’ wonderful pussy. They both yelled in unison.

“Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh! Aaaahhhhh!”

But then disaster struck. Harry pulled out too far and his cock slid free. When he thrust forward his dick slid up the outside of her pussy instead of into it. His knob parted her labia, passed over her clitoris and emerged above her mound.

With a dismayed grunt, he ejaculated into the open air.

A huge ribbon of pearly-white spaff flew from his cock and arced out above Tonks’ body.

Time seemed to slow down as Harry looked on in horror. The streamer of spunk appeared to hang in mid air for a moment, offering the miraculous possibility that it might take pity on Harry and choose to defy gravity. Alas no. It dropped from the air to land in a creamy line across Tonks’ hair, face, breasts and stomach. Before Harry could prevent it, a second cordon of cum gushed from his dick and painted another pearly-white line across Tonks’ body.

Harry was thoroughly appalled. He stared in dismay at his accidental desecration of Tonks’ body, but the ordeal was far from over. His orgasm wouldn’t be denied and another blast was building. He frantically pulled back in a desperate attempt to shove his cock back inside her. But his efforts were thwarted by Tonks herself. She grabbed his dick with both hands and began pumping it frantically.

Shock paralysed him as another string of spunk shot from his body and splashed across her torso; then another and another.

Now it was Harry’s turn to cry out in helpless orgasm: “Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!”

He was entirely at her mercy – with Tonks yanking on his dick he just couldn’t stop ejaculating. He’d never had a girl do that to him before and he was powerless to resist. The feel of Tonks’ delicate hands on his shaft was incredible in itself, and the knowledge that she was _forcing_ him to cum was a tremendous turn-on, but the fact that she was deliberately spraying his seed all over her naked body evoked a deep and primal lust within him.

Harry’s head flew back and his eyes snapped shut. Unable to resist the spell that her hands were weaving on him, he gave in to it completely. Free will deserted him and he became a mere puppet, dancing to the tune of her controlling fingers. The tiny modicum of restraint he’d held over his wildly ejaculating penis was gone in an instant, and he began squirting uncontrollably, splattering Tonks’ gloriously nude body with even thicker ropes of creamy spooge.

As a series of ferocious contractions gripped him, Harry lost control of the link between them and the next wave of his climax flowed unchecked into Tonks’ mind. She cried out as an instant orgasm swept through her.

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

Tonks’ orgasm amplified his own, and his amplified hers, pushing them both to new heights of ecstasy. Within moments Harry’s ejaculations and Tonks’ vaginal contractions had synchronised. Tonks’ hands began pumping in time to her own orgasmic convulsions, yanking Harry’s cock at just the right moment to make him cum again.

They both cried out in unison, “Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!”

On and on it went, longer than any orgasm Harry had ever had, spraying line after line of hot semen over Tonks’ prone form.

He had no idea how many times he’d splattered her, but it was easily dozens. That realisation eventually brought some clarity back to his thoughts. Oh God! What must Tonks think of him? She must be disgusted and horrified. His plan was in tatters! She’d never want to have sex with him again!

In terror at what he might find, Harry nevertheless forced his eyes to focus on Tonks’ face. To his amazement, she looked both shocked and delighted, grinning broadly every time he ejaculated and shrieking with laughter when it hit her in the face. Harry felt a wave of relief sweep through him, and the revelation that Tonks seemed to actually be enjoying it suddenly made the sight massively erotic. More pearly blasts erupted from his cock, arcing through the air with renewed vigour to land on Tonks’ face and breasts.

By the time his climax finally waned, almost every inch of Tonks’ body was covered in creamy semen. She sighed heavily and slowed her hands down to gently milk the last few drops of cum from his body. When the final dribble fell from his knob onto her hairless mound, Tonks released his dick and fell about laughing.

“Oh my God Harry!” she screeched. “Look at the state of me! I look like I’m still wearing my cream dress!”

Harry’s eyes roamed over her body. She was right. He’d _thoroughly_ defiled her. It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“I’m so sorry Tonks,” he wailed, “I couldn’t help it...”

“I know!” she grinned, looking down at herself. “It was _me_ making _you_ lose control for a change!”

She seemed genuinely thrilled.

“You don’t mind the um... _mess?_ ” he asked hesitantly.

“ _Mind?_ ” she laughed. “Why would I mind you finding me so attractive that you explode like a water canon? It was fucking awesome. I love making you cum. In fact, seeing it happen so spectacularly made me cum too!”

“Um... okay,” Harry replied guiltily, choosing not to explain the real reason for that.

Another concern struck him. “Do you think anyone heard us?” he wondered, eying the windows.

Tonks smiled reassuringly, “Don’t worry – the silencing spell I use is no ordinary silencing spell. I tack-on a non-verbal Auror Security Charm that silences the whole room – the door, the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and even the windows. I cast it on the door as a focus, but it actually affects all the outer surfaces of the room. You could fire a canon in here and nobody would hear you.” She looked down at herself. “Ha ha, get it? Fire a canon...”

Relief flooded him. The last thing he needed was Mrs Weasley storming in to find out what they were up to... and finding them in this state! But his relief did give him a chance to tease Tonks a little bit.

“It’s not so much the volume I was worried about,” he said solemnly, “it’s that shocking potty-mouth of yours.”

For half a second Tonks just stared at him, then she went bright red. (Or at least the parts of her that weren’t covered in spunk went bright red.)

“Oh my God!” she gasped, “I was swearing like a fishwife wasn’t I?” She looked suddenly mortified, “ _Oh I’m so embarrassed!_ ”

Harry burst out laughing. She was lying there naked and completely covered in spunk, but it was the swearing she was embarrassed about. Sweet Merlin she was an amazing woman!

Tonks slapped him across the arm, “Stop laughing at me! It’s your fault anyway! You drove me to it by denying me sex for three days! Honestly, that’s cruel and unusual punishment that is. I’m pretty sure you violated the Geneva Convention. I could report you to the United Nations.”

Harry guffawed.

“But I’ll let you off just this once,” she decided, “since you gave me five orgasms.”

“Five?” he queried.

“Well, definitely three... but two of them were like double orgasms – I peaked twice. That’s never happened before so I’m not sure if I should count them as one orgasm or two...”

While she was talking a dribble of cum ran down her cheek onto her lips. She licked if off without thinking and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh! That’s... um... unexpected. You know, I knew a couple of cum sluts in my final year at Hogwarts...”

Harry didn’t know what ‘cum sluts’ meant, but it didn’t sound very complementary. His thoughts must have shown on his face.

“Oh I don’t mean that in a nasty way,” Tonks clarified. “They were quite open about their hobby, and that’s what they called themselves. But they were lovely girls – really sweet. They just happened to have a major cum fetish. Some girls just do, I suppose, and there’s nothing wrong with that... though I’ve never seen the attraction myself. I reckon those two sucked-off half the boys in our year. Right popular they were... with the boys, I mean. Not so much with the girls. Anyway, according to them, swallowing spunk is a lot like swallowing oysters – they both taste salty and slimy, so it’s best if you just swallow them in one go without letting them touch the sides. It’s more about the erotic experience than the taste or the texture, apparently.”

She ran a finger across her nipple, gathering another dollop of spaff. She wiped it down the centre of her tongue and ran it round her mouth, sampling the flavour.

“I’m pretty sure they would have mentioned it if sperm ever tasted like yours does.”

Harry paled. Did his man-batter taste horrible?

“Easy there Harry,” Tonks laughed. “It tastes fine. In fact it’s very nice.” She smacked her lips a few times, making tasting sounds. “It’s sweet and woody... with a slight citrusy note... and a hint of spice... a bit like... cloves. It reminds me of something... _Oh what is it?_ It’s on the tip of my tongue!”

She chuckled, “Ha ha, it’s on the tip of my tongue! Get it? Oh wait, I know what it is! It’s cinnamon! Yes cinnamon, like my body wash.”

Her eyes lit up in delight, “Oh Harry, did your flavour your cum just for me?”

Harry didn’t know what to say to that. He had no idea what spunk was supposed to taste like. Nor did he know why his tasted different. He was glad it did though, because ‘salty and slimy’ didn’t sound very nice at all.

“They’re both married with kids now, those two girls.” Tonks continued, letting Harry off the hook. “One’s a primary school teacher and the other is a vicar.” She checked her watch, “Anyway, I need a shower. Grab me some towels will you Harry?”

“ _A shower?_ ” he shrieked in panic. “You can’t go out looking like that! What if someone sees you?”

“Nobody is going to see me Harry,” she scoffed. “I’m sure I can get to the bathroom without being spotted.”

“You’d think so wouldn’t you?” Harry replied earnestly. “And yet someone always seems to catch us when we least want them to!”

“Don’t be daft Harry! What are the chances that someone will just _happen_ to walk past this floor at the _exact moment_ that I walk out of here covered in spunk?”

“Can’t you just use Hermione’s jizz removal spell?” Harry pleaded.

“No, that’s for removing jizz from _inside_ something. And I’d rather not use any other cleaning spells either, before you ask. They’re very harsh on the skin. I’d look like a lobster if I cleaned this lot up magically!”

Harry sighed deeply and rose to grab some towels while Tonks cracked the door open and peered out.

“Hold on,” she whispered, holding up a hand and listening intently. She waited a solid two minutes. Just as Harry was about to suggest they give up, she whispered, “Okay let’s go,” and stepped out into the hall.

Harry goggled. He had expected her to wrap a towel around herself, at least, but no. She left the room completely naked, with just her wand in her hand and high heels on her feet. Harry held the towels over his genitals and hurried after her. They both tip-toed quickly and silently down the hallway.

They were half way to the bathroom door when a noise on the stairs brought them to a sudden halt.

Immobilised with terror, Harry watched in dismay as Hermione appeared at the end of the hall, descending the stairs from above. Before Harry had time to do anything other than panic, she crossed the landing right in front of Tonks. Neither Harry nor Tonks moved a muscle. In his head Harry began frantically praying that Hermione wouldn’t glance their way.

Hermione glanced their way.

She stopped in her tracks and stared.

In mute horror, Harry imagined the scene from Hermione’s point of view. Oh God! Tonks and Harry were both stark naked and Tonks was plastered in spunk! There was absolutely no way to explain this as anything other than what it was. At least he had towels covering his privates, he thought, but as silver linings went that was a pretty thin one.

Time seemed to slow down. He saw Hermione’s eyes widen in shock, her jaw dropped and the half-full glass of milk in her hand slipped from her numb fingers. Harry watched in dismay as the glass tumbled inexorably towards the floor... at which point it would shatter and bring the entire house out to investigate.

But then a miracle happened. The glass stopped in mid-air! Most of its contents spilled onto the floor, but the glass itself slowly rose back up to Hermione’s waiting hand. As it pressed into her palm, Hermione’s fingers closed around it reflexively. Meanwhile, Hermione seemed to be struggling to process what she was seeing. Her eyes ran up and down Tonks’ naked jizz-covered body several times, flicked to Harry, took in his lack of clothes and then reverted back to Tonks.

“Wotcha Hermione!” Tonks said cheerfully, lowering the wand she’d used to rescue Hermione’s glass. “You seem to have spilled your milk. Would you like to try some man-milk instead? I’ve got plenty...”

With a startled, “Meep!” Hermione bolted down the stairs, spilling her remaining milk all over the place.

Tonks snorted in amusement and continued down the hall to the bathroom.

For a moment Harry was rooted to the spot, but then he scurried after her.

“ _You did that on purpose!_ ” he accused as she locked and silenced the bathroom door behind him.

Tonks eyes twinkled mischievously, “How on earth could I have arranged that Harry? Are you suggesting that I took note of the fact that you finished boinking me just before eleven o’clock, which is the exact time that Hermione goes to bed every night, and then I delayed our exit from the room until I heard her saying goodnight to Ron? Well that’s just plain crazy! Who would do such a thing?”

Harry put a hand to his forehead and groaned.

Tonks’ tinkling laugh filled the room as she climbed into the shower and drew the curtain.

“ _This is absolutely the last time I’m going to fall for that!_ ” Harry yelled, raising his voice over the sound of the shower.

“ _If you say so Charlie Brown,_ ” Tonks shouted back.

\- § -

Breakfast was a rather strange experience the following morning. Harry couldn’t look at Hermione, he was so embarrassed. Hermione wouldn’t look at him either, but he could see her shooting him glances out of the corner of her eye. He had no idea what to make of that.

In contrast, Tonks seemed unfazed by last night’s events. Oddly, she’d chosen a sort-of platinum-blonde colour for her hair this morning. Hermione seemed to wilt at the sight of it, which puzzled Harry until he realised that it was rather similar to the colour of his jizz. But that was a coincidence, surely?

Tonks cheerfully helped herself to a bowl of cereal and drowned it in cream. She placed the jug in front of Harry and then made a fuss of offering it around.

“Cream anyone? Hermione, would you like Harry to shoot some cream your way?”

Hermione’s face instantly burned crimson. Harry’s eyes narrowed. Was Tonks being crude?

Ginny snorted, trying desperately not to laugh, and then chimed-in herself.

“Yes Harry... Come on Hermione... You’ll both love it. Who doesn’t enjoy lashings of cream?”

“ _Ginny!_ ” Hermione hissed, firing a mortified look at her and glancing at the adults in alarm.

Harry wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. Hermione had clearly told Ginny what she’d seen last night, but there seemed to be more to it. He replayed Ginny’s words back in his head, and nearly choked on his cornflakes when he noticed the double-entendre.

Had Ginny said what he thought she’d said... or had she said, ‘Yes Harry, cum on Hermione! You’ll both love it!’

The phrase ‘lashings of cream’ could also have another meaning...

“No I’m fine thank you,” Hermione said pointedly, refusing to look up.

Tonks shrugged, “Another time perhaps... Oh, I forgot to ask – what did you think of my cream dress last night?”

“It was very pretty,” Hermione mumbled.

“Yes I thought so,” Tonks agreed, smiling sweetly, “and it felt lovely. Maybe Harry will give you one just like it someday...”

Harry could barely see Hermione’s face, but the moment she realised Tonks wasn’t talking about her _actual dress_ was very obvious – a flush spread over Hermione’s face, down her neck, across her chest and along both arms. Her entire body was blushing!

Harry was very confused. Tonks was the one who’d been caught in a compromising position – walking naked to the bathroom covered in jizz... and yet Hermione was the one embarrassed about it. What had he missed?

Ginny seemed to know what was going on too. Both she and Tonks had anticipated that Hermione would be embarrassed about seeing Tonks covered in Harry’s man-batter. _But why?_ Why would Hermione be embarrassed about that? It was an awkward moment, yes... but surely it was Tonks and Harry that should be embarrassed?

 _Unless_...

Had Tonks seen something in Hermione’s head when she read her mind?

Perhaps something that, in a moment of foolishness, Hermione had subsequently confessed to Ginny?

Could it be... a dream or a fantasy where someone _ejaculated all over Hermione’s naked body?_

Harry stared at Hermione in disbelief. _Surely not!_ Not Hermione! She was so straight-laced!

Hermione seemed to sense his gaze and glanced his way. As soon their eyes met he knew he was right.

The guilty truth was written all over her face.

[ ](https://www.freecounterstat.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters, and then it’s back to Hogwarts...
> 
> If you like this smutty stuff why not check-out my other stories [Harry Potter and Draco’s Secret Revenge I](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25406260), [Harry Potter and Draco’s Secret Revenge II](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26104114) and [Draco Malfoy and the Room of Hidden Things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26166397). Be warned though, at present they all involve non-consensual sex. If that’s not something you want to read about then steer well clear! For the avoidance of doubt, this story (Harry Potter and the Rotfang Conspiracy) will not include anything non-consensual.


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